


Take What the Water Gave Me

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: Short but Sometimes Sweet: Damerey Collection [17]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fisherman Poe, Hurt/Comfort, Magic AU, Non-Human Mating Customs, Past Torture, Protective!Poe, Romance, Selkie Rey, Selkies, Violence, magic!rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-28 05:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: Poe Dameron, a fisherman in Alaska, sees the repulsive Unkar Plutt with a beautiful young woman at the local tavern. When Unkar drops a woman's coat, Poe gives it back to the girl, not realizing the significance of the object nor his action: and, his lonely world is irrevocably changed by his kind gesture.The coat he gave to the young woman, Rey, was really the captured selkie's sealskin - and she now views them as married, per the traditions of her kind.





	1. What the Water Gave Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based somewhat loosely on the Selkie myth from the Celtic/Gaelic part of the world. It's briefly described within the fic, but basically Rey is magical and appears as a seal-like creature; she can shed her skin and walk on land as a beautiful 'human' woman. In the selkie mythos, men traditionally steal the skin and hide it, forcing the woman to marry them/stay with them and are unable to return to sea. 
> 
> Also, this fic is based on [this post](http://sweetfayetanner.tumblr.com/post/175209972793) from tumblr, sent to me by [supremequeenofthenerds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supremequeenofthenerds/pseuds/Supremequeenofthenerds)
> 
> Fic title is from the Florence +The Machine song, ["What the Water Gave Me"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=am6rArVPip8)

Poe glowered at Unkar Plutt from across the dimly lit tavern. “Say, Finn.” He tapped the table in front of his friend, who’d been staring out into space.

“Huh?” Finn blinked at him and picked up his beer, taking a long sip. “What, Poe?”

“Who’s that with Unkar?” 

A devastatingly beautiful young woman was sitting across from Plutt. She wore a thin grey dress - and why she didn’t have a coat in this climate was beyond Poe, who was wearing multiple layers even indoors - and an expression that demonstrated the meaning of _‘if looks could kill_.’

“No idea.” Finn frowned over at the oddly matched pair. “She looks miserable though, poor thing.”

“You’d be miserable too, if you were eating with him.” 

To be fair, the young woman wasn’t eating. She stared into space over Plutt’s shoulder, her hair in three odd buns. Despite the damp chill of the Alaskan spring air, she didn’t seem cold. She just seemed furious. Something didn’t sit right in Poe’s stomach, watching the two of them. Plutt reached over and grabbed her wrist - she pulled her hand away automatically, but he wouldn’t let go. An expression of pain flitted across her lovely features, and Plutt laughed, a nasty sound that echoed through the bar.

“That’s it,” Poe growled, standing up. Unkar was standing as well though, and walking back towards the bathroom. “I’m going to go see what that monster is up to.”

“If you get into another bar fight, I’m not pulling you out,” Finn commented mildly.

“Sure you won’t.” Poe gave his friend a confident wink, and Finn snorted into his tankard. He knew Finn would have his back in this instance; his friend’s eyes were filled with deep concern watching the waifish girl left behind at Unkar’s table. Poe shook his head and stormed towards the back of the tavern. 

Unkar was just disappearing into the bathroom when something fell out of his long overcoat. It was a woman’s fur coat, beautiful and soft. Poe frowned at it and picked it up off the ground. It was oddly light and silky in his hands. He looked up at the door Unkar had disappeared through and then back at the table where the young woman waited, looking close to tears. He made his decision.

Poe walked up to the woman and cleared his throat to announce himself; the way she flinched made him curse Unkar in every language he knew. “I think this is yours,” he said softly. He draped the coat over the back of her chair and smiled at her. 

The girl looked even closer to crying than she had before. She picked up the coat and didn’t say a word, merely ran her hands over it and then clutched it to her chest. She stared up at him, and he was automatically lost in her large, beautiful eyes, which shifted in color from brown to green and back to a color in between even as he looked into them, almost like the sea on a cloudy day, close to the shore. 

“I’m Poe, by the way. Poe Dameron.” Poe eyed the door Unkar had disappeared through. “Are you okay?”

“Poe,” she whispered, looking down at her coat and then back up at him. “Dameron.” A beautiful smile stretched across her face, and she stood unsteadily, as if she’d just come back from sea. “Rey.” 

“Rey?” He smiled at her encouragingly. “It’s nice to meet you, Rey. Really though, are you in trouble, sweetheart?” He didn’t know where the endearment came from, but it seemed right.  _That’s what pa always called ma,_ his brain pointed out, but he silenced it quickly. 

Rey nodded quickly. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. One of her small, thin hands lifted from her coat and cupped his cheek. He blinked in surprise; her skin was cool and strangely silky - almost the same texture as her coat. “Poe.” He wanted to cover her hand with his – he felt a strange urge to run his lips over the pulsepoint on her slender wrist – but she pulled away too quickly. She ran from the tavern then, still unsteady, but fast on her feet all the same. The door slammed shut behind her, and she headed west, towards the edge of town and the sea.

“What the hell?” Poe muttered. He shook his head, signaled to Finn that he was going to leave, and walked out the door and onto the street of the small fishing village. 

Rey was already gone when he got outside. Poe shook his head, and Finn joined him a minute later.

“What the hell do you think that was about?” Poe asked, staring down the street towards the Pacific.

“Did you know her from somewhere?” Finn asked instead of answering. “Because she seemed to know you.”

“Never seen her before in my life,” Poe said honestly. He slipped his hands into his gloves, and the men walked towards their homes. Behind them, Poe heard the door to the tavern slam open, heard Unkar Putt screaming down the street. They steadfastly ignored him and kept walking.

“I hope she got far away from here,” Finn said angrily. “Whatever he was doing with her, it wasn’t good.”

“Yeah,” Poe said softly. It was for the best that she’d escaped. She needed to get as far away as possible from Plutt – even if that meant he’d never look into those eyes again.

The thought made him strangely lonely.

***

That night, the wind howled outside his small cottage near the water’s edge. He wasn’t due for another deep sea voyage for a few more weeks, but he’d probably go out fishing tomorrow to see what he could catch near the harbor.

He punched his pillow and tried to get comfortable, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rey, the mysterious young woman from the tavern. Poe couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that had blossomed between them in the few minutes they shared, some deep, abiding connection.

It was overly sentimental, and overly romantic, and he snorted derisively at himself before burying his face in his pillow and groaning. Like Finn had said, it was good that she’d gotten away from Plutt – but the knowledge that he wouldn’t see her again, after she’d whispered his name, made it sound new, the syllables fresh and significant when formed by her perfect mouth –

Shit.

It was just like Kes had described, when Poe had been able to convince him to talk about Shara. _I saw her, and it hit me like a bolt of lightning,_ his father would sigh. _Her eyes burned right through me, and I knew I’d never be the same._

Kes lived further inland now, but maybe Poe would go and pick his brain later this week. He was due for a visit anyway.

He drifted closer to sleep, his thoughts running together into the territory of dream, and he sighed, nestling in further under his down comforter. Shara’s face floated behind his eyelids, whispering to him a story she’d heard when she was traveling in Europe. He frowned to himself, eyes still closed, chasing his mother’s voice as he faded into sleep.

His dreams were dominated by the story he’d tried to recall; dominated by his mother’s words, and a haunting pair of hazel eyes in a pale and lovely face.

 _They’re wonderful creatures, half-sea and half-magic,_ Shara said to him, her fingers combing through his curls while he sat on her lap and looked at the carvings of seals she’d brought home from her adventures. _They can shed their skins and walk among us, appearing as incredibly beautiful women. They must watch their skins though, lest they be stolen by wicked men who intend to enslave them. These men hide their skins, forcing them to remain as women, locking them to land and to their side, as they’re forced to bend to their new master’s will._

 _Once she falls in love, though, her heart is won forever. Then, she’ll give up her sealskin willingly and live on land. She must return to sea every seven weeks though, or she’ll perish._ In the dream, Poe examined a new carving, this one of a woman climbing out of a seal’s hide. She was beautiful, with long hair that was wavy like the ocean’s surface, and long, slender legs. She looked oddly familiar.

 _What are they called, mama?_ Poe asked Shara.

 _They’re called selkies,_ Shara laughed, kissing him on the head. _And they’re just stories, darling boy._

The carving of the woman came to life, the selkie turning to face Poe, her expressive eyes instantly recognizable as she began to climb out of her imprisonment, into his living room, and – 

Poe gasped awake, clutching the ring that hung on a chain around his neck. His chest heaved, and he blinked rapidly, pawing at his eyes. A quick look through his eastward windows revealed that it was almost sunrise, the horizon beyond the town lightening with every passing minute. Poe sighed and pulled the covers down, wincing at the chill in the air as he crossed his wooden floorboards and pulled on his woolen socks.

He heated up water for his coffee and stared out the westward windows, out to the sea. His attention caught on a shape out on a rock outcropping, maybe five hundred feet from his house. He frowned studying it – it was undoubtedly a seal.

“What are you doing so close to shore?” He murmured, squinting out into the semi-darkness. Sighing, he returned to his morning routine, cooking some leftover fish and heating up some bread before opening his door and setting out a pail of milk on his doorstep.

“Come get it, you fat bastard,” he hollered into the early morning.

An orange and white cat padded out of nowhere and looked at him smugly before drinking deeply from the offering.

“You could just come in, you know,” he commented, smirking down at the cat. The fat beast had shown up on his doorstep randomly three months ago, at the end of winter, and had yet to actually enter Poe’s house. He figured he wouldn’t be so picky come fall when it started to get really cold again.

“Meow.” The cat looked disinterestedly up at him before returning to his breakfast.

“Asshole.” His insult was met with another bored noise, and Poe snorted, shivering slightly before pulling on a thicker sweater. “You coming out with me today, buddy?” He asked the cat.

The cat was grooming himself now, and Poe swore he rolled his eyes at him. “Talking to a cat,” he sighed, grabbing his tackle and rod. “God.” Regardless of Poe’s self-deprecation, the cat followed him down to his small, private pier and hopped in his fishing boat before Poe untied the dock-end and jumped in.

“Ready?” He asked. The cat curled up on the opposite end and ignored him. “Me too.” He rowed out towards the line of rocks in the harbor, where he’d spotted the solitary seal this morning. Poe wasn’t sure why he’d fixated on the animal – perhaps it was because it was the only thing that looked lonelier than he felt.

***

When he returned later that morning, the cat stole a fish out of the bucket, hopped up, and stalked down the pier before Poe had finished tying the boat up.

“God, you big bastard!” Poe cursed at him, and then laughed. “Maybe I’ll call you B.B. for short, huh? Would you like that, BB?” The cat turned and gave him A Serious Look before walking away, going off wherever it went when it wasn’t bugging Poe.

He laughed to himself and hauled the morning’s catch up to the house, intending to clean it and then bring some of it to Finn, whose back had been injured in a bad accident last fall, and still couldn’t really go out on a boat.

Poe walked up and around to the path that led to his front door, and he almost dropped his work from the morning when a soft voice called out, “Poe Dameron?” from the side of his house. He knew that voice. He’d heard it say maybe three different words, but he knew it better than his own, somehow. He turned from the bottom step leading up to his house, and sure enough, Rey from the day before stood at the bottom corner of his house, down where the foundation met the grassy hill. The tide rushed up behind her, the surf wetting the hem of her grey dress.

“Rey?” He asked incredulously, setting his bucket down behind him. He prayed he didn’t smell like fish (he definitely smelled like fish, he always smelled like fish, he was a fisherman for God’s sake, shit, what did he do to deserve this). “What are you doing here?”

She smiled uncertainly, and he beckoned for her to come up to the step. She took an unsteady step, and he jumped down to help her. Rey smiled at him when he reached her side, and she gathered the skirt of her dress in one hand, and with the other, took the arm he offered her. “Wanted to see you,” she said faintly, her voice low, with an accented lilt. British then, or something close.

 _I wanted to see you too,_ he almost said, but he bit his tongue.

“Have you been out here long?” Poe asked worriedly. It wasn’t the coldest day, but still. “You could have caught your death, standing out there near the water. It’s freezing!”

Rey laughed, and he was entranced by the musical sound. He was so screwed. “Not freezing,” she said. He placed a work-roughened hand over her fingers, trying to judge for himself, and he marveled at how her smooth skin was, in fact, a strangely cool temperature, but certainly not anything alarming for a person standing out here with only a thin dress on.

They reached his bottom step, and Poe smiled at her uncertainly. Rey didn’t remove her hand from his arm, and she had moved on to stroking her hand over the coarse fibers of his cabled sweater almost admiringly. She was humming to herself, and the morning sunlight caught on her brown hair, revealing the hidden red in it. Poe wondered if her hair would be soft if he ran his fingers through it – it looked oddly wet, but was long and pretty – and he tamped down that desire, cursing himself for even thinking it.

“Unkar hasn’t given you any more trouble, has he?” Poe asked worriedly. Rey looked at him, and her clear eyes grew stormy. He shivered in response, the temperature seeming to drop.

“Unkar,” she repeated scornfully. “He’s a –” she made a strange, odd sound. _Gaelic?_ He wondered. His pa had a friend who spoke Gaelic, and the tongue had never made much sense to his ears. Hearing it in Rey’s voice though, he wished he’d learned.

“I bet,” Poe said approvingly. “He’s a real rat bastard.”

“Rat bastard!” Rey looked delighted. She laughed brightly, her expression already clearing. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” Poe grinned ruefully, embarrassed to have cursed in front of a lady. “Can I get you anything? Some tea? Breakfast?”

Rey cocked her head at him and smiled, looking politely confused. Poe gestured up to his door and tried a different approach. “Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”

Rey nodded in understanding and released his arm – Poe sucked in a disappointed breath between his teeth – to pat at her pockets. “Found something,” she murmured. “Needed to give it to you.”

“Oh?” Poe frowned. Had he dropped something last night when he’d given her back her coat? That was doubtful. Poe only had one prize possession, really, and that was his mother’s ring. He’d notice automatically if that went missing.

Rey’s hand emerged from her skirts, and she gave him a triumphant smile. “Here!” She said cheerfully, taking his hand from where it had dropped to his side. Rey carefully pried his fingers open, and Poe followed all too willingly. She placed whatever she was holding – small, metal, cold – into his palm and closed his fingers around it. “Now we’re … even?”

Poe opened his hand to see what she’d given him, and his jaw almost fell off from opening so quickly.

A diamond ring sat in his palm. Poe stared at Rey in astonishment. “What is this, Rey?”

“An … en-ga-gement? Ring?” She said, stretching the word out and frowning. “I’ve seen – people give them to each other?” Rey made an odd face, as though she couldn’t understand why people gave them to each other.

“Yes,” Poe said, the information not piecing together in his brain yet. “But why are you giving one to me, Rey?”

The sun re-emerged from behind a cloud, casting a dazzling glow over the beautiful woman in front of him, the sea sparkling down below her as they stood on the stone steps leading up to his small house; the light caught on the diamond as well, a refracted rainbow glittering on the light grey of her dress.

“You gave me back my –” She uttered another odd, Gaelic word. Poe nodded even though he didn’t understand at all. “We are –“ She frowned, biting her lip. “I thought – you might want to have a human custom, as well?”

Poe looked her in the eyes, smiling uncertainly, and Rey smiled up at him. She looked – well, she looked anything _but_ uncertain, and that gave him pause. He raised his right hand and traced the metallic circle with his forefinger, smiling at it. “The man usually gives this to the woman,” he said, for something to say.

Rey laughed delightedly and held her hand out. Poe handed it back to her, this strange, gorgeous woman, and Rey took it and clasped it to her chest, sighing.

Then, something _clicked_ in his brain.

“Rey? What do you mean by _human_ custom?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have several more scenes/events outlined and written for this universe, so let me know if you'd want more!
> 
> Also tell me what rating you'd want, because some of those scenes are a little, *ahem* sensual.


	2. Between the Two of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey reveals her true nature to Poe, who tries to take it in stride. But her revelation of how she was treated by Unkar Plutt threatens to drive him to violence. 
> 
> She explains why she believes them to be married, and Poe realizes they have much to talk about and figure out in the coming days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> *Unkar Plutt kept Rey chained and held her as a prisoner - brief depiction of the wounds left by the chain, and Poe has violent thoughts after he sees it.
> 
> *Rey and Poe cuddle in bed, and she accidentally discovers his erection. He explains what it is with technical terms - Rey does touch him without permission (he's fine with it, but he's worried she doesn't know the implications/he doesn't want to take advantage), but once he asks her to stop, nonverbally, she does.

Rey looked ready to answer his question (She said _human_ custom? Was there another option?), but a distinct, guttural boat horn sounded, cutting through the air. She physically flinched towards him, and Poe wrapped an arm around her without a second thought.

It was Unkar Plutt’s boat, the only one that bothered to ignore the rules about where and when to sound their foghorn, and the raucous cheers of his men carried over the water from hundreds of feet away. Poe opened his mouth to comment on it, but he could feel Rey shaking against him. When he looked down, she had covered her mouth with a slender hand, her eyes squeezed shut. Poe’s heart was wrenched by the sight, and he ushered Rey up the steps and into his house.

With the door shut and locked securely behind him, he sat her on the lone, threadbare couch in his sitting area, and grabbed his softest blanket.

“Here,” he murmured, wrapping it around her small shoulders. She was still trembling, her eyes distant; Poe swallowed against the sudden emotion, the sudden unbearable desire to protect her from whatever had caused her retreat into terror, and kneeled down at her feet, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Rey, do you want some tea?”

“Tea?” Rey whispered, her eyes still unfocused.

He took the liberty of just pouring her some from the kettle still sitting out on the stove, and he handed her the mug. Rey sniffed it and blinked, and he was relieved to see some clarity in her eyes again. She leaned down and stuck her small, pink tongue into the mug, and tentatively tasted it. She wrinkled her nose.

“It is very bitter,” she said.

“Do you want sugar? Honey? Milk?” Poe lurched forward, ready to bring all three back to her.

“No, no,” Rey laughed and took a full sip, some of it spilling from the side of her mouth. “I like it!”

Rey settled against the back of his couch and continued to sip at her tea, and Poe took the opportunity to sit on the coffeetable in front of her, his elbows on his knees while he studied her face. When she looked more calm and peaceful than before, he cleared his throat and prepared to ask the difficult question ( _prepared to call the constable on Unkar, more like_ ).

“Rey,” he said softly. Rey looked up at him, completely guileless, and smiled over the rim of her mug. Poe reached out and pulled it down, not wanting her to spill or burn herself if he startled her. Rey frowned slightly and held the mug in her lap, her fingers playing with the handle nervously. “Sweetheart – what were you doing with Unkar Plutt?”

She looked deeply, horribly sad, and he hated himself for asking, but he needed to know, needed to know if she was in any danger. “I didn’t want to be.” His suspicions were confirmed, then. “But I had to stay.”

“But why?” Poe asked. He knew of wives who stayed with horrible husbands from love or fear or a combination of the two– was that it?

“You must know.” When he didn’t say anything, she frowned, more deeply. “I am a –” A strange, lovely Gaelic word that Poe couldn’t translate. He shook his head at her, mystified. Rey sighed. “I – this is not what I look - He had my --” Rey growled in frustration and then pulled out the coat from yesterday. She hesitated for a moment, almost indiscernible, before handing it to Poe.

“He stole your coat from you?” Poe frowned at the object in his hands in confusion. “I mean – it’s a really nice coat, but it doesn’t – you don’t even seem to get cold.”

“It’s not a coat.” Rey sighed, looking upset. “It’s – I’m –” she wrung her hands together, cheeks pink. “I thought you knew?”

“Knew what?” Rey pointed up at the carvings his mother had left him, of the woman climbing out of the sea.

“I am not from here,” she said softly. “I am from the –” a word that was almost music came out of her throat, and Poe leaned in, more entranced than ever. Rey laughed nervously. “The sea. You call it the sea, yes?”

Poe stared at her, and then up at the carving, and then down at the coat in his hands; he completed the triangular circuit ten more times before he said, weakly, “You’re a selkie?”

Rey cocked her head at him and smiled. “Is that the word you use? Not very pretty.”

“No, I guess not.” Poe laughed and handed her back her coat – her _sealskin?_ “My mother told me stories about your people. She always said you were a legend.”

“The legends were true,” Rey shrugged. “But I lost them. My family. Unkar found me, and –” She made a soft, sad noise, and lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her left leg. Poe looked down and hissed through his teeth.

There was a ring of bruises around the delicate bones of her ankle, horrible marks that looked almost like burns – where the skin had been rubbed raw, he realized – and scratches that were easily identifiable as caused by fingernails. Her fingernails.

She’d tried to free herself.

“How long?” Poe asked, horror building in his chest. He wiped tears out of his eyes and stared at her leg in horror. “How long did he have you?”

“Six weeks,” Rey whispered. She shivered, and Poe took her hands in his. He kissed her knuckles and left his mouth on the back of her hand, an excuse not to show her his eyes, knowing she’d see the intense, horrible desire that now burned inside of him to kill Unkar Plutt. He’d rip him limb from limb, feed him to the ocean, chain him up and see how he liked it –

“You gave me back my coat,” Rey said. Her fingers pulled through his hair, and Poe took a shuddering breath. “You saved me, but also --”

She stopped herself, and Poe looked at her curiously. Rey shook her head and then looked over at his china cabinet. Her eyes lit on a framed photograph, and she set her sealskin down on an oilcloth he had lying out. She stood quickly and hobbled over to her destination, picking the frame up.

 “What is this called?” Rey said excitedly, pointing at the photograph. “I have seen this before – different people, but on the shore sometimes, I have seen this – what is it called?’

“It’s from my parents’ wedding,” Poe said, his brow furrowed in confusion. He stood and walked over to her, and took the frame from Rey, stroking his hand over the lower half of the glass-fronted frame. “It’s the only picture I have of them. From the day they became husband and wife.”

“Husband?” Rey asked, pointing at his mother. Poe smiled at her and shook his head, moving her finger slightly to the right so she was hovering over his father. “Wife!” She declared, pointing back at his mother. Poe grinned and nodded at her. “Wedding.” She smiled down at the frame thoughtfully and set it almost reverently back on the table.

“Husband,” she said softly, reaching out to touch Poe’s arm. He frowned at her smooth and freckled hand, and lifted his gaze to her face. The smile she wore was nothing short of radiant while her hand lifted to press against his chest, over his heart. “Husband,” Rey repeated, and then moved her hand to cover her own chest. “Wife.”

“What?” Poe whispered, mystified, “No, sweetheart, we’re man and woman, not husband and –”

Rey made a noise of frustration, and he instantly regretted arguing with her because she looked so distraught. “No,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “No, you gave me my – coat?” She pointed at her sealskin, folded carefully on the oilcloth. “This means – wedding – to my people. I gave you the engagement ring, which means wedding to your people. We are husband and wife!” She finished, a look of victory in her hazel eyes, and smiled at Poe, obviously waiting for him to agree.

“Uhm,” Poe said, mouth dry. Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit. He hadn’t been on a date in two years, hadn’t been in a serious relationship since he was in his twenties – now he was _married_? That couldn’t be legally binding, he barely knew this girl, and –

Rey was smiling at him still, soft and sweet and warm, and Poe lost his train of thought completely, detaching from the anxiety just so he could smile back at her and lessen the worry that haunted the back of her eyes. He remembered how frightened she was with Plutt, how eager she was to escape – she didn’t look miserable now. In fact, she looked incandescent with happiness, radiating peace and serenity in a way that Poe, quite frankly, found intoxicating after his lonely years.

Still, though:

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Poe said firmly. “We haven’t really done the steps to marriage yet, not to my people, and-“

“You don’t want me.” Rey nodded, her happiness evaporating in a moment. Her slender arms wrapped around her body, and she smiled weakly at the floor, silvery tears leaking from her luminous eyes. “I understand. You are not the first.”

“No!” Poe shook his head quickly, reaching out plaintively. Rey stared at his hand for a moment before taking it, her fingers trembling from her hesitance. “No, sweetheart, that’s not what I’m – I want to get to know you, and I’d like for you to know me. I want you to have a choice in this, not just decide it because of your customs.”

“Oh.” Rey frowned at him, but she didn’t look upset anymore. “But I did choose you.”

Poe huffed a laugh and dragged his fingers through his hair, the curls standing on end. “All the same,” he said, smiling softly at her. “I’d like to make sure you’re as happy as possible.”

“Happy,” Rey repeated, smiling at him. “I want you to be happy, too.”

“That’s as good a start as any, I guess,” Poe laughed, and then, still holding her – his wife’s? – hand, he led her to the kitchen so he could see what she liked to eat, while he tended to her ankle.

***

Rey hummed quietly to herself, sitting in the window that faced the sea.

“Do you want to go back?” Poe asked curiously. Rey froze and turned to face him, looking nervous. “You’re more than welcome to, I – I promise I won’t go anywhere, if you’re worried about that.” Poe blushed – he’d never be so forward in assuming a woman’s feelings for him, but Rey had so far demonstrated a singular interest in being married to him. God, he wished he deserved it.

He was still rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes when she responded. “I don’t need to go back.” She spoke softly, and he raised his eyes to look at her one more time. She was ethereal, sitting in in the window, the soft light of the candle he’d lit flickering over her body. The sun had just set, but enough red lingered on the horizon behind her that she looked impossibly otherworldly – and, Poe admitted to himself, she actually was from another world. “Don’t want to go back.” Still, she looked anxious, and he saw that she was holding her sealskin tightly.

“Do you want to put that somewhere safe?” Poe asked gently, walking towards her. Rey startled and looked up at him. Her movement exposed the horrifying, mottled scar around her ankle, and he flinched, too. “I mean – I’m not going to take it. Just, if you wanted to keep it somewhere safe, so you didn’t have to worry about losing it.” _Or having horrible men take it from you, or worry about me using it to control you._

Rey nodded shyly, and Poe rustled around for a steel lockbox he used to keep for ship manifests. “There’s only one key to this,” he said, rifling through his desk for it, opening drawers until he found it. There was an old chain necklace in that drawer as well, and he pulled it out and slipped the key onto it. “Here.” He lined the box with the oilcloth and held it out to Rey. “You’ll hold the key, and we’ll put it somewhere safe, somewhere you can get to it quickly if you need to – if you wanted to—” He realized with a start that it caused him physical pain to think about her leaving.

“Thank you,” Rey whispered. She stood from her seat shakily – and Poe wondered if it was her unfamiliarity with this form, or with the injury to her leg – and set her sealskin in the box carefully. He didn’t look down though, as he was too entranced by her lovely face, the candlelight casting a gentle glow over her features. He found himself focusing on the way she bit her bottom lip, and found his fingers itching to free it from her teeth, replace his fingers with his mouth, found himself wishing that he could kiss her the way husbands kissed wives, but-

No. Not now, not like this, when she was so new to this. Poe was utterly bewitched by this woman, but he couldn’t take advantage of her. He’d meant what he said.

Rey looked at him expectantly, and he briefly worried that she could hear his thoughts; but then he remembered that he’d promised her a key. He handed it over, smiling, and Rey locked the box and waited for him to pry up a floorboard in the bedroom. She followed him over, and nestled the box safely in the stone foundation, and made an odd chirping sound when she lowered the board back on top of it and stood.

“Is that a good noise?” Poe asked awkwardly, hoping it wasn’t a rude question.

Rey looked at him curiously, and then smiled. “Yes,” she said. “A good noise.” Rey took the engagement ring out of her pocket and examined it for a moment, still smiling. She slipped the ring onto the chain with the key, and then moved to put the necklace back in her pocket.

“You could just wear it,” Poe pointed out, and then winced. Why on earth would she know what a necklace was? “Like this.” He pulled the neck of his sweater down and showed her his own necklace, the one that bore his mother’s ring. Rey reached out and stroked a hand down the length of the chain, ending at the circle of silver, and Poe shuddered.

Rey snatched her hand back. “Sorry,” she whispered, looking worried. “Pretty.”

“Thank you,” Poe murmured. “Here, can I –“ He held his hands out, trying to communicate his offer to clasp the necklace for her, and she handed it to him nervously. Poe moved as slowly as possible until he stood behind her, and pulled the chain around her neck. He cleared his throat when his fingers brushed the delicate column of her throat, and Rey hummed – a happy noise, he thought – and leaned backwards into him. Poe looked up, heavenward, and prayed for strength before clasping the necklace. “There.”

Rey turned around, and her fingers danced over the collection of metal at her throat. “Pretty?” She asked excitedly.

“Beautiful,” Poe answered, tucking his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t do something ridiculous like pull her into his arms. Rey giggled, a truly marvelous sound, and spun in a circle, bracing herself on her good leg. She looked around the room they were in (and Poe kept looking at her), and her eyes lit upon the bed.

Rey walked over to it curiously. “Is this a bed?” She asked, stroking a hand over the mattress. “For sleeping? And…other things?” Her smile was half-innocence, half-teasing, and it promised to drive Poe wild.

“Yes,” he said, walking over to stand across from her. “But just for sleeping tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Rey’s smile was fully teasing now, and Poe looked away, mortified.

“Do you want something to sleep in?” Poe asked instead of answering. “So you don’t have to sleep in your dress?” She nodded eagerly, and he went to his dresser to pull out another sweater. “Here, this should at least be warm, but I don’t know what we’re going to do about pants—” Poe turned around and almost dropped his sweater.

Rey was pulling her dress over her head while facing the wall, and he caught a very alluring, very forbidden glimpse of the beginnings of her behind. He turned around quickly, face and neck on fire, and tossed the sweater onto the bed without looking. “You can wear that,” he said, his voice hoarse and unrecognizable. He willed himself to calm down, and counted backwards from thirty.

“Like this?” Rey asked, and he looked up. She stood next to his bed, her hands fiddling with the hem of his sweater, and she smiled at him bashfully. The sight of her standing there in his clothing was too much for Poe, who nodded, voiceless for the moment. “Sleep now?” She asked eagerly, going to kneel on the bed. Poe coughed and looked up to the ceiling again, very aware now that Rey was _only_ wearing the sweater.

“Sleep now,” he confirmed. Poe smiled at her before walking to the door.

“Do you have another bed?” Rey asked. Poe froze in the doorway and smiled at her.

“No, I’ll sleep on the couch, give you some privacy.” _Keep my sanity._ “I’ll be right out here, but this door locks, if that makes you feel any be—” he cut himself off, seeing the abject misery on Rey’s face. “Are you okay? Is this not okay? Would you rather sleep somewhere else--?”

“You don’t want to sleep with me,” Rey sniffed, and he saw, to his utter horror, that tears had filled her eyes. “Not even in the same room? Am I that repulsive?”

“What?” Poe stumbled forward, flabbergasted. “I just thought, after everything you told me about the last few months, you’d want to be by yourself, that you’d want to feel safe—”

“You make me feel safe,” Rey said simply. And Poe?

With five small words, Poe’s entire world shifted.

“Okay,” he said, moving forward as if he weren’t even in control of his body anymore. “Okay.” He sat on the bed and then lay down carefully, not wanting to startle her, not wanting to get too close to her.

Rey had no such qualms. The second he was on his back, she curled up at his side and wiggled in close to him, all before he had a chance to pull the quilt around them. Poe laughed and tugged the blankets up, and Rey’s hand came to rest on his stomach. She stroked her hand over it, singing to herself, and Poe felt very tired suddenly.

“That’s a nice song,” he mumbled. “You have a nice voice.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, sighing and dropping her head onto his shoulder. Her hand continued to trace random patterns over his abdomen, further increasing his sleepiness, and Poe groaned low in his throat, praying it was too quiet for her to hear. Then, her hand dropped down, probably out of simple curiosity, but to a location that promised to wake him up, very quickly.

“What is this?” Rey asked, her fingers working at his pants over his obvious erection. Poe groaned and grasped her wrist, trying to still her movements while not giving into his base instincts.

“It’s a…” Poe cast around for what he should call it, a more common vulgar term, or the anatomical term. He settled on the latter. “A penis.”

“It’s hard,” Rey marveled. “Like a muscle?”

“Not like a muscle.” Poe’s cheeks flushed, and he successfully pulled her hand away, kissing her knuckles. Rey sighed happily and burrowed in closer to his chest. “Not always hard.”

“Why does it change?” Rey asked curiously. Their hands met over his torso, fingers threaded together. Poe dropped his head so his nose was buried in her hair, which carried the scent of saltwater, and breathed deeply.

“It changes when I look at someone or think about someone I find attractive.” Rey’s eyes sparkled, and Poe knew she had realized the meaning of that statement.

“I’m – attractive?” Rey tested the word out before resting her chin on his stomach and smiling up at him, her eyelashes fluttering against her high cheekbones. The image certainly didn’t help the issue they were talking about.

“More than,” Poe laughed shakily. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Rey purred happily, nestling against his abdomen. “You’re a good husband,” she said thoughtfully, eyes drifting shut.

“Am I?” Poe was still reeling from the fact that she considered them to be married, that they’d done this in such a strange order – that despite the oddity of the situation, something felt so _right_ about it, and he wouldn’t question it, not if it meant he got to keep her, earn this trust she was so willingly giving him. “I don’t think I’ve done much for you.”

“You are kind to me,” Rey said, not opening her eyes. “And you saved me. You fed me, and gave me new clothes, and you let me keep my,” that strange, foreign term again, that Poe realized was the name for her sealskin. “You are not like other men, Poe Dameron. You are … gentle. And – “ Her cheeks grew pink, and Poe watched, fascinated, as her freckled skin blushed for the first time since their meeting. “And you are attractive.”

“You think I’m attractive?” Poe asked, unable to keep the teasing note out of his voice. “That’s reassuring.”

Rey regarded him then, with her large hazel eyes, and Poe felt strangely small, caught up in her gaze.

“I find you beautiful,” she said carefully. “And I think most creatures would.”

“Thank you,” Poe whispered, stroking a hand along her hair. Rey seemed to approve, that strange purring noise forming from some place in her chest. His eyes began to drift shut in response, caught up in the warm peacefulness of the moment. “I don’t know if this is some wild dream or not – but I hope if it is, I don’t wake up.”

“It’s not a dream,” Rey said, curling up at her side fully now and resting her head on his shoulder. “But you should sleep, if you are tired.”

“Will you be here when I wake?” Poe asked, hope creeping into his tone despite his efforts to appear calm and collected.

“I will not leave your side,” Rey promised, kissing his chest over his heart. Poe hummed contentedly and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should there be more?
> 
> (you know there's more/a confrontation scene with Unkar)


	3. Pockets Full of Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey spend a quiet, happy morning together. However, not all is well with Rey, and Poe discovers an alarming reaction she has to the idea of being in water:   
> The monsters of her past are refusing to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: Rey has a panic attack/flashback that Poe accidentally causes. The reason for this will be revealed in chapter 4.

Poe cracked his eyes open the following morning and sighed heavily. He’d had the most marvelous dream where he’d fallen asleep next to the loveliest creature he’d ever met –

Next to him on the mattress, something shifted, a warm and comfortable weight he’d assumed was a pillow and a blanket or some gathering of materials meant to confuse him in the night, convince him that he wasn’t, as always, alone.

He shifted and looked down, and immediately his face split into a smile.

Rey was still there. It hadn’t been some miraculous fever dream. She was in his arms – in his _bed_ – her face relaxed in sleep, her hair loose and fanned out across the mattress. She was lying on her back, one arm thrown above her head, the other curled against her stomach, and Poe had somehow been pushed to the far corner of the bed sometime in his sleep.

He fought back a laugh that this tiny woman, who was almost his height but probably weighed less than he did by about seventy pounds – he made a mental note to feed her, a lot, and soon – had crammed him to the side of his own bed with little to no effort on her part. How someone that small took up this much room was beyond him. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, quite a bit.

She was drowning in his old grey sweater, the hem of it hitting her at the tops of her long legs – longer on her because the bulk of his chest took up some of the length when he wore it. The soft light of morning broke through the eastward window, and her hair seemed to catch fire, hidden threads of gold and red flaming amongst the brown locks. Her lips parted while she sighed, and Poe found himself being dragged downwards by a surer fate than gravity, locked into a free fall that he felt no urge to pull up from –

He shook himself violently. Rey was _asleep._ And he was staring at her, leering at her even – God, what had gotten into him?

His head rested against his hand, his elbow propping him up on the bed while he considered that strange lapse of judgement. He’d almost kissed her – like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, or any of the young, pretty damsels in the Grimm tales his Ma used to read to him. And, like those princesses, Rey was completely unaware of his presence lurking over her. _You make me feel safe,_ she’d whispered to him last night. And what had he done but almost betrayed that trust by kissing her when she wasn’t awake to say ‘yes’.

 _I’m a monster,_ he thought, pain gripping his heart. Distantly, the memory of his mother’s voice told him the story of selkies, and with the story came the knowledge that they often captured sailors’ hearts with their beauty, an enchantment of sorts falling over them, robbing them of their senses –

 _No._ Poe refused to let that excuse his brief lapse of control. Even if it _were_ true – and more and more of fairy tale and fey seemed possible now, in light of the creature dozing peacefully next to him – even if all of it were true, he had no excuse for kissing a woman when she was asleep, enchantment or no. He was stronger than that, he was better than that – and she deserved more than that.

Sometime during his bitter, self-hating reflection, Rey began to wake from her slumber. She stretched delicately before opening her eyes, and Poe tried to soften his expression from his introspection of the morning. “Good morning,” he whispered, praying that he didn’t have breath to match the time of day.

Rey smiled and her eyelids fluttered as she woke fully; Poe’s breath staggered when she looked at him for the first time that day. “It is a good morning,” she commented, stretching again, her feet pressed against the mattress, his sweater riding up from where it rested on her long, slender thighs with perfect  –

Poe quickly leaned down and grabbed the quilt, pulling it over her. “It’s chilly in the morning,” he explained, cheeks burning. “You fell asleep without your legs covered, don’t want you to catch cold.”

“You don't?” Rey asked, her hand stroking over his forearm, over his hand, where it was still clutching the blanket. “I don’t feel chilly.” She began to push the quilt down, and Poe took the opportunity to leap from the bed. She shifted onto her side to pout at him, something that did not help his resolve, and Poe smiled at her, gesturing behind him to the kitchen.

“Breakfast?” He asked weakly. Rey gave him a look of confusion. Right. Why would she know that word? “Uhm. It’s the food you eat in the morning. Are you hungry?” Her stomach rumbled audibly from where she still lay, and Poe laughed merrily at the shock on her expression. “I’ll take that as a yes. What do you like to eat?” _So I can cook pounds of it and give it to you while you lie in my bed, not having to move or struggle ever again in your life._

Christ. Where did _that_ come from, Dameron? You aren’t a caveman.

“I’m not sure,” Rey said shyly. She moved to get up, and Poe held his hands out quickly.

“No, no,” he said. Rey froze. “Stay in bed, I’ll bring it to you. You need more rest, and you need to stay off that foot.” _Yes. Cover up your sudden protective streak with logic. That’ll work. Fuck, you’re a mess._

“I will do that,” Rey agreed, curling back up on her side and watching him move into the kitchen. He felt her eyes burn against his back, and his cheeks flushed from the knowledge that she observed his movements. He carefully took out the tea and started the kettle –

“What are you doing?” Rey called from her side of the cottage. Poe smiled at her and held up the kettle.

“I put water in this and heat it up, and I use that water to make tea. I made you some yesterday – you said it was bitter?” Poe’s smile broadened at the memory of Rey’s reaction to the tea – surprise but also pleasure. He wanted to see her smile like that again. Rey nodded, and Poe explained the rest of his process without her prodding. “So, I bought this bread at the village bakery on Sunday, and it’s a little dry, so I’m resting it on the stove near the flame to toast it. Then, I’m going to get out some fish I caught yesterday,” and he pulled open the icebox, Rey’s eyes wide with shock when he came back out with a selection of fish, “From the icebox, which lets me keep things cold so they don’t go bad.”

“It’s very complicated to be a human,” Rey laughed, and Poe nodded in agreement.

“Definitely. Do you, uh –” Poe didn’t know how to be polite about this, so he just asked. “Do you want to eat your fish raw? I usually cook mine.” He fidgeted at the reminder that she was not quite human.

“Raw?” Rey cocked her head and then smiled, burrowing down further under his quilt. Something warm and liquid erupted behind his sternum at the sight. “You … put your fish on the fire?”

“Sort of,” Poe laughed. “I can grill it or bake it – some of it I can eat raw, but I get sick if I’m not careful.”

“Poor, delicate human,” Rey teased, and he stuck his tongue out at her. Her mouth formed an “o” of surprise before her nose scrunched up and she repeated the gesture, much more cutely than he’d managed.

“Big, strong human,” Poe corrected, arranging the pot of tea, the bread, and both raw and cooked fish on a tray and walking over to Rey with it.

“Yes,” Rey agreed very solemnly, twisting to sit upright, her legs still covered by the quilt. He set the tray over her lap, and Rey’s hands covered his before he pulled them away. “My husband is very strong,” her thumbs stroked over the inside of his wrist while she declared it, and Poe flushed deeply. She wore a strange half-smile that seemed all too knowing, and Poe leaned in to kiss her forehead, right at her hairline before pulling away.

He wasn’t strong at all. If she kept looking at him like that, she’d find out just how weak he was.

“Eat,” he said, waving his hand over the tray, eyes darting to the corner of his house.

“Will you eat with me?” Rey asked hesitantly, eyes wide as saucers. “It’s so much food.” It really wasn’t – definitely more than what one person would normally eat for breakfast, but he figured she’d be hungry – there certainly wasn’t enough for two people on the tray. But Poe smiled, took a crust of bread and nibbled on it demonstratively, and Rey dug in, ignoring the utensils entirely as she went for the raw fish.

He opted not to watch her eat them, the crunching telling him all he needed to know about what was happening. They ate quietly– until the moment where Rey took a bite of the cooked fish on Poe’s side of the tray, and the look of utter disgust made him belly-laugh in a way he hadn’t in years. “Here,” he snorted, holding his hand out under her mouth. “You really don’t have to eat that.” She spat it out indelicately, and Poe shook his hand out onto the tray, laughing harder when she grabbed some bread and wiped it over her tongue.

“Why would you do that to perfectly good fish?” She wailed, still pawing at her mouth. “Ugh! That was – that was –”

“Foul?” Poe suggested, and Rey nodded vehemently, shooting daggers at his small plate of cooked fish. Poe picked up and placed it out of sight, and Rey growled softly before going back to her own food. A bizarre fondness washed over him then, one he certainly hadn’t earned yet, and he spent the rest of the meal studying the frayed spot in his pants, right over his left knee, so that she wouldn’t look up and see just how far gone he already was.

***”

A week after having Rey move in with him – he’d gotten some odd looks down in the village when he’d ordered a woman’s dress at the seamstress, but he’d made up an excuse about a girl from England moving here to marry him (it was some version of the truth), and the female employees had cooed in excitement, _Captain Dameron, notorious bachelor, settling down at last_ – the skies opened up, and he skipped his morning boat ride in favor of drinking coffee and staring out across the hills as the storm moved overhead.

Rey was still asleep in bed, or so he thought.

“What’s wrong?” Her musical voice came from behind him, and he smiled with that odd feeling of domestic comfort that had overcome him in the past week. She stood next to him in the doorway and gazed out into the world.

“It’s raining,” Poe said by way of explanation. Rey’s wondering face looked upward, and he saw her mouth the word. _Rain._

His hand stretched out from underneath the small awning in front of his door, and he caught droplets in his palm. Rey stared at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth when he brought his hand to his mouth to drink the collected rainwater. He’d done it all the time as a boy, and honestly he’d done it now out of reflex – but seeing Rey’s eyes darken in response to his action made him feel further from boyhood than he ever had. Her hazel eyes flitted away from his, and Poe breathed a little easier, both relieved and regretful to have the spell broken.

Her own slender arm reached out, and she giggled as the rain tickled her palm. “ _Rain_ ,” she said thoughtfully. “I – I’ve seen rain, obviously, but never on land.” Poe waited for her to keep speaking, leaned against the doorframe to study her profile – she lifted her hand to her lip, just like he had done, and drank the cool water, and her animated face lit with joy at the taste of it. “I like that,” she breathed, eyes wide. She looked out across his small yard, and pointed to a patch that used to be covered in grass. “What do you call that?”

“Mud,” Poe laughed. “That’s mud. It’s nothin’ special, just—” Rey had already taken off down the steps and ran to the mud puddle. “Rey!” He called after her, “Rey, it’s not for fun—” But it was, wasn’t it? At least, he remembered that it was, watching her not even bother picking up her skirt as she twirled in the mud, flecks of it going everywhere, on her dress, on her arms, on her chin. Rey laughed uproariously, kicking more of it around, and she beckoned to him up on the stone steps.

“No,” Poe said, waving his hand at her. “No, someone needs to stay dry, sweetheart.”

“Come on!” Rey giggled and continued to splash. “Dry is boring.”

“I had to marry a selkie,” Poe grumbled, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the statement. Eventually, Rey’s charm and his begrudging amusement won out, and he sighed, thumping dramatically down the steps. The rain flattened his hair, not quite powerful enough to drench him, and by the time he made it to the puddle, he was sure he matched Rey’s bedraggled statement. She laughed in sheer delight and grabbed his hands, obviously wanting to pull him into her muddy playground.

“Nope,” Poe shook his head and tugged her towards him. She flew into his arms with a soft _oof_ of surprise, and she blinked up at him, mud streaking her face, caking her hair. Poe smiled at her and watched as Rey’s eyes shifted from green, like the hills behind her, to brown, of the earth below her, always with a hint of blue like the sea that surrounded them. He cleared his throat, wrapped his hand around her waist and began to sway back and forth with her.

Poe hummed quietly, and Rey laughed, allowing him to twirl her slowly, gently, the rain pattering into the yard around them. She came easily back into his arms when her spin was complete, and fit as though she’d always been there. His own pants were soaked through by thirty seconds of their strange dance, and Poe found that he honestly didn’t care. Not with Rey laughing over his shoulder, her body warm and real under his hands; he closed his eyes and breathed, trying to accept that fairy tales were true, and he was living in one.

***  
While Rey continued to explore the outside world, Poe went back inside and toweled off quickly, leaving his mud-stained sweater and boots at the door. He left the towel around his shoulders, the silver ring cool against his damp skin, and strode into the small washroom to the left of the door. Rey had been so impossibly happy with rain – she would probably love a warm bath to soak in when she came in.

His cheeks flushed slightly at the thought, and he immediately scolded himself. He’d explain the concept to her, remind her that a bath should _not_ be taken clothed, and then leave. With the door closed firmly between them. Poe found himself grinning as he ran the tap until the water became warm – he’d installed the pipes and heater himself, and it usually provided enough hot water to get steam rising on the surface, and he’d never been prouder of his handiwork – and then he wandered away to find salt. He didn’t think freshwater would be particularly pleasant for her, but maybe it was different in her human form.

Poe sang under his breath while he worked, an old lullaby Shara used to sing to him as a child, and he even cracked open the linen closet to get the fancy guest towels his father had given him as a present when he moved out by himself fifteen years ago. He fluffed them up, only feeling slightly self-conscious – what the hell kind of flirting was this, anyway – as he left them on the chair in the washroom, and he rolled the sleeves of his thermal henley up while he put the finishing touches on the bath.

The front door opened, and Poe grinned, walking out to stand in the doorway, well aware that his hair was a disaster. “Come in here after you’ve dried off a bit,” Poe said cheerfully, and Rey nodded to confirm, smiling back at him while she shook water out of her eyes and wrung her hair out, out on the step.

He returned to the bathroom, and a minute later, he heard Rey’s foosteps come up behind him. “Hey Sunshine,” he called when he sensed her in the doorway. The nickname came out naturally, a joking reference to her love of the rain and a not so joking reference to her first name and the way she made his whole life feel warmer. “Do you want to take a bath?”

She didn’t say anything, so he kept talking, leaning down with his arm in the water. “This is a tub, and you can sit in it,” he explained, on the large chance that she had no idea what a bath was.

And then he looked over at the doorway.

Rey was collapsed against the wall near the exit, paler than death. Shit. Had she been away from the sea for too long? “Are you alright?” Poe asked worriedly. “Maybe you really should hop in here, warm up a little bit, get your head under the water—”

“No,” Rey moaned, “No, please don’t – It’s not right – please –”

“Is there not enough salt in here?” Poe asked, dumbfounded.  He pulled his forearms out of the tub, where he’d been testing the temperature of the water, and shook his hands dry before reaching out to her, but she collapsed backwards, her legs clearly giving out while she screamed in terror. The sound cut through him, and Poe was dragged down into her fear, almost blinded by the ferocity of it, as though they were connected by one soul, one mind – _Focus, Dameron._

“Rey, sweetheart, calm down.” She clutched the wall behind her and shook her head frantically, hand scrambling at the doorframe. “Baby, please, it’s just a bath –”

“I’ll do anything you want,” Rey sobbed, her eyes wild and distant. “Please, please don’t – I’ll do what you want, whatever you want, don’t make me – “

“I won’t!” Poe said, louder than he intended. He forced himself to sit cross-legged, sitting as still as possible, raging against the impulse to hold her. “Rey, I won’t – I’d never force you to do anything, I swear!”

“No, no, no, no,” Rey chanted, covering her ears with her small hands. “Please.” She moaned, eyes squeezed shut, her body folded protectively, blocking access to her abdomen, making herself as small as possible. Poe’s heart shattered watching her dissolve like this. Didn’t selkies love water? Why was she so –

He lurched forward and into the tub, displacing a good deal of water onto the floor in his haste to get to the drain plug. Rey shrieked from his sudden movement, her legs scrambling underneath her – they were seemingly useless in this moment, was it because she was afraid? –  Poe pulled the plug, and the water level lowered rapidly. He eased himself back onto the wet floor and kept his hands in sight.

“There, the – the water’s going away,” he soothed, hands raised still. “It can’t hurt you, Rey. I won’t ever hurt you. I’d never let anything hurt you. I swear.”

Her sobbing slowed eventually, and Poe held his hand out to her across the soaked bathroom floor. Rey peeked out from the curtain of her hair and reached back for him; he tried not to analyze how much his heart rate slowed upon contact with her chilled skin. “I’ve got you,” he found himself saying. “I got you, and I’m sorry I scared you, sweetheart, c’mere.” They scrambled together somehow, through the pools on the ground, and Rey curled up in his lap, keening softly while she pressed her face into his chest. Poe hooked her legs over his arm and picked her up, carrying her out of the bathroom; he kicked the door shut behind him for extra measure as he swept over to their bed.

They sat there, at the foot of the bed, until she stopped shaking. His gut clenched when the hem of her dress lifted, revealing the angry streaks of red traveling up from the wound on her leg, the scars darker and more livid than ever – _shit._

Rey continued to tremble, though, and he needed to calm her down. Poe remembered the towel around his shoulders and draped it around Rey, who clutched it to herself, and buried her face once more into his shirt. “It’s okay,” Poe said, a sob catching in his breath. _What the fuck was that_? “Hey, Sunshine, you’re okay.” He kissed her hair, her knuckles, her forehead in a nervous circuit.

Just then, a plaintive meow sounded from the still open kitchen window. Poe groaned and held Rey tighter. “Not now,” he begged. BB, the big bastard cat, had appeared from nowhere. After months of ignoring the house, he was now sitting in the windowsill, staring at the scene unfolding in Poe’s home. “Go away,” Poe instructed. Rey was too far gone in her agony to take note of what he was saying, but he didn’t raise his voice all the same.

The big bastard ignored him.

BB hopped through the window and loped across the space until he arrived in front of the bed. Rey continued to sob, and the cat studied her for a long moment. _Do cats like selkies?_ Poe thought hysterically. The cat meowed more loudly and then lifted his front paws to rest against Poe’s knee, nose flexing as he scented the trembling woman. One more meow, and BB was on Poe’s lap, which was honestly getting quite full.

“Go. Away.” Poe hissed, pulling backward on the bed. BB of course ignored him, and nuzzled against Rey’s shoulder gently.

She looked up, sniffling, and exclaimed “ _oh_ ,” softly. She reached out with a weak hand, and the cat rubbed his head, purring audibly, against the offered limb. Through her tears, through her misery – Rey smiled. “Hello,” she whispered. BB hopped up into her lap, and Poe managed to transfer both of them to the bed, the towel now underneath Rey.

The selkie turned on her side and wrapped an arm around the cat, who neither squirmed nor complained from the imposition. Instead, the fat beast purred louder, burrowing in next to Rey, whose breath hiccupped from the force of her sobs before settling into a half-giggle. She stroked along the length of BB’s body experimentally, which elicited more purrs.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Poe laughed, and Rey looked up at him, eyes still sad with an almost ancient weariness. He cleared his throat and stood to get more towels and blankets. He heaped them over Rey, smoothing hair out of her face, and kissed her forehead one last time. Eventually, her breathing evened out as she began to doze, and BB fell asleep with her, traitorous, picky cat though he was.

Poe kept watch while Rey slept, his head rested against the mattress as he gazed up into Rey’s face, uneasy even in sleep. Painful questions plagued him during this time –

How could a selkie fear water? And what had happened to make this sweet, bright, and curious woman so afraid?

***

The next morning, Poe stood up from the couch where he’d fallen asleep and washed his face in the kitchen sink. He quietly made a pot of tea and warmed some bread; when he walked to the bedroom, Rey was sitting up, scratching BB under the chin, and the cat was kneading slowly over her covered thigh.

“Good morning,” he greeted softly.

“Is it?” Rey asked. Her voice was tremulous, eyes limpid, and Poe sagged against the door briefly before walking in.

“It’s good because you’re here,” he answered with a smile, and it inspired a brief smile of her own. He reached out slowly, carefully, so as not to startle her, and rested his hand against her face. Rey turned so her nose pressed into his palm, and kissed his rough skin gently. And just like that, the truth of the situation slammed into him full speed.

God. How could he already be so in love with her?

“I need to go to the island across from ours today,” Poe said, stroking his thumb over her soft lips. Rey kissed his thumb as well, and then nestled her cheek into his palm and watched him warily as he continued. “I need to get some supplies from a healer woman. For your leg. I saw yesterday – it’s not doing well, sweetheart, and I need to buy something to help it.”

Rey nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Poe said, his other hand resting on her calf now, rubbing up and down her limb over the blanket. _Too familiar,_ his mind cautioned. _More, always, more, everything with her, everything for her,_ his heart argued. “Do you – would you want to come with me?”

Rey’s expression crumbled, and her lip quivered. “C-can’t,” she said, “I’m sorry, I can’t –”

“Don’t be sorry,” Poe said. He caught her eye and smiled at her again. “Please don’t be sorry, Rey. You don’t need to come with me, I was just offering.” She nodded and sank back against the pillows. BB stretched and readjusted to follow her body heat, and Rey in turn seemed to wrap around the cat. Who knew the big bastard would come in handy.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” Poe said. “I’m going across the bay on the ferry, which is a large ship – powered by steam, if you can believe it – and I’ll go see Maz, and then I’ll be back on the noon voyage. You can do whatever you want while I’m gone, but – the door locks, Rey. You’ll be safe.” She nodded again, and he left the bread for her on the table next to the bed, and the tea.

He stood, and Rey grabbed his hand before he could pull away. “You’ll come back?” She asked anxiously.

“Of course I will,” Poe kissed her forehead and then her cheek, forcing himself to stand upright again before he did something insane like kiss her lips. “I’ll always come back for you.” She chirped – a happy noise, he’d learned – and he smiled at her, kissing her knuckles. Rey released his hand, and he pulled the blankets up around her one more time. “Just rest,” he urged her. “Please. Stay off your leg as much as you can before I get back.”

He set out some raw fish near the front of the ice box for her and tugged on a thick sweater. It was a warmer day, but the air was bound to be cold on the top deck of the ferry. He checked his clock and sighed. The boat departed in thirty minutes, and he had to walk into town. Away from Rey. It seemed horribly wrong to leave her, but he needed to see Maz. He stepped into his boots and laced them up, hefting his key in his hand.

“Be safe,” Rey called from the bed, and Poe smiled despite his anxiety for her. He’d never had anyone to say goodbye to him when he left. The idea made the loneliness of the last few years wash clean away.

“Have a good day, Sunshine.” He opened the door and set his shoulders against the early morning chill, stealing into the warm and safe place they’d created.

Softly, so softly he could have imagined it, Rey’s voice followed him out into the world. “It will be good when you return, Poe.” The door shut behind him, and he set off down the lane into the village.

***

Poe sat on the starboard side of the ferryboat and let his mind drift with the waves. It was an oddly foggy morning, so the usual passage would take a full hour instead of three quarters of one. Still, it was faster than his fishing boat, and he sighed, closing his eyes and holding onto his mother’s ring, an old anxious habit. He drifted further into a daydream, making no effort to control it.

The thought of the silver band glinting on a slender hand startled his eyes into opening. Or, maybe it was because - the back of his neck prickled as though he was being watched. Poe stood and looked over his shoulder, through the mist covering the deck. A large shape moved towards him, and Poe frowned, trying to bring the figure into focus – the mist lifted slightly as the person grew nearer, and Poe stiffened in recognition when they broke through the fog to stand ten feet away from him.

It was Unkar Plutt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, the next chapter (chapter 4, which should be up soon) will move to a Mature rating - not for sensuality (although that's not off the table) but because of descriptions of what Unkar did to Rey when she was his captive, and the level of violence entailed in the descriptions, as well as in later events of the story. Fairy tales are dark, and I want to pay credit to that - but I also don't want younger readers/people who are upset by violence to be taken off guard!
> 
> As for our Selkie Jedi: Rey's been through some major trauma, and Poe's currently in a very protective role with her - Protective!Poe won't go away, by any means, but Rey will regain the intensity and physical strength that we know her to be capable of as she continues to heal.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I could end this at chapter four, but I have a large storyline outlined/partly written that involves Kylo Ren if you wanted /more/ selkie Damerey romance. lmk!
> 
> thank you for reading, as always!! <3


	4. A Beast of a Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unkar's conversation with Poe opens up more questions about Rey's time with the cruel sailor; Poe visits an old friend and receives some surprising advice; Rey confides in Poe, and they grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Warning: This fic upped to Mature, not for sexual content (But maybe later? If people want? It's already written either way, oops), but for violence and descriptions of torture.
> 
> Specific trigger warnings for: Drowning; Slavery; Mention of Sexual Assault (Rey was not sexually assaulted, but while trying to tell Poe what happened to her, it's implied that's what he thinks happened - b/c selkie myths are rife with that lack of consent/violence against women).

“Dameron!” Unkar called out while still staggering towards him. Poe fancied he looked a bit like a blobfish, one left out to decay and rot in the sunlight.

“Unkar,” Poe nodded and looked out to the sea, his jaw tensed. His fingers itched to form a fist, to drive into Unkar’s face until he met with bone. Poe breathed heavily through his nose; he’d never been a violent person, never had a taste for cruelty.

But with this man, with the memory of Rey’s battered leg and prolonged fear burned into his mind – Poe could make an exception.

“How’s it going, Captain?” The old sailor asked. Poe’s eyebrow twitched from the weight of his rage, but he kept his features schooled. They had fifteen minutes til they docked. He could go that long without murdering this sack of shit.

“It goes.” Poe kept his response clipped and shoved his hands into his pockets. He forced himself to turn and gave Unkar an approximation of a smile: lips sealed, chin set. “And how have you been? Business treating you well?”

“It was for a while,” Unkar stood next to him, but he was so vast his gut touched the railing. He fiddled with his long, straggly beard, and the sight of his massive hands, stained with some foul unknown substance made Poe’s stomach turned. Those hands had touched Rey, in violence, most likely. Something demanding _blood, repayment, death, destruction,_ roared in his ears. He realized Unkar had spoken again, and tried to re-focus. “…hauling in close to a hundred a week, but you could say my luck has changed.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Poe sighed in faux-sympathy.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you understand. It helps to have certain…people…onboard.”

“Did Teedo quit?” Unkar’s first mate, who was just as cruel, with no respect for anybody.

“No, he’s still with me,” Unkar leered at Poe, and his stomach definitely gave an unpleasant lurch. “I recently lost one of my, what you call ‘em – an asset. I lost an asset recently.”

Poe stared up at the much larger man, no longer pretending to hide his anger. “Is that so?”

“Aye, it’s so.” Unkar gripped Poe’s shoulder, and Poe retched from the stench rising up from his filthy jacket. “Have any fun with her yet?”

Ice water ran through his veins, pouring out from what used to be his heart, rushing clear to his fingertips. Poe grabbed Unkar’s hand and _dug,_ his fingernails prying into the meat of his wrist until he released his hold on him. “I beg your fucking pardon?” Poe spat, stepping away from Unkar. His hand went to the knife always in his pocket – it was supposed to be for fish, but Poe could gut this piece of shit just as well with it.

“You know.” Unkar waggled his eyebrows and leaned in, the smell of rotten whiskey and fish clear on his breath. “It’s a shame, really. She’s awful useful when you can make her be. You’d think a little bitch like her would like the water.”

The foghorn sounded at that exact moment, and the passengers milled out from belowdecks. Poe remained frozen to the spot, the cry of _blood, murder, destroy_ louder than ever in his ears. What the fuck was Unkar saying?

“See you around, Cap,” Unkar smirked and turned to leave, but Poe grabbed his arm and forced him to spin. He was going to fucking flay him alive, pry him apart until he told him what he’d meant by that -nothing good, obviously, God, Poe would take _pleasure_ in destroying him – but Unkar chortled as the crewman from the ferry walked by and gave them an odd look.

Poe released Unkar reluctantly, and Unkar waved sarcastically at him. “Make sure you scurry on home later, Dameron. I’d hate to think of her all alone in that house.”

Panic boiled through him. Unkar couldn’t – he wouldn’t – Poe shook his head and resolved to visit Maz as quickly as possible, and return on the earlier ferry. Unkar was going to be away from the island as well. He had time. Rey wasn’t defenseless.

***

Poe felt the shadow of Unkar’s words on his back for the remainder of his morning. He spoke with Maz, the old healer woman who’d been present as his own birth, and made as much small talk as he could manage to still be polite while getting home as quickly as possible. She gave him a knowing smirk when he stopped by the jewelry on the way out.

“A lady has finally caught your eye, then, Poe Dameron?” She teased. Poe felt his face heat under her smirk, and he shrugged bashfully, stepping away from the display for the time being.

“More than my eye, Maz,” he muttered. _She caught it all; my eye, my heart, my soul._ “This is actually for her,” he admitted, holding up the salve she’d given him. “She’s – not in great shape right now.”

Maz’s eyes widened behind her bifocals and she studied him carefully. He shifted uncomfortably in her gaze, and when she reached over the counter and grabbed the front of his sweater, he allowed himself to be pulled down to look her in the eyes. What followed was an intense examination that he felt down to his toes; Poe worried about secrets she may be finding, despite the fact that he bore no secrets in his life (well, just the one, now).

Maz released him after a spell, and considered him, rubbing her chin with a wizened hand. “You are in love,” she diagnosed. “But you are afraid because you have just met; however, it is not that you fear you cannot love her in so short a time, but rather, you fear that she cannot love you. But she needs you, and you need her, so here you are.”

Poe huffed an awkward laugh and resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. “All that just from looking at my ugly mug?” He joked to hide the tension in his body.

“Not your mug, Poe Dameron,” Maz said serenely. “Your eyes. I’ve lived long enough to know how the eyes of a man in love should look. You love your bride, and you’d do anything to protect her. I do hope that you take great care not to lose yourself in your pursuit of caring for her.”

Poe nodded and accepted the advice before pointing out a silver bracelet that had sparkled a certain way in the light. Rey found some of the things in his home to be ‘pretty,’ he knew, but he hoped he wasn’t crossing some sort of line by buying her something new. Maz’s smirk suggested that the gift would hopefully be well-received; she boxed it up for him with no comment, though.

It wasn’t until he was nearly out the door before he turned to Maz for one final question. “Bride?” The single word sat in the air between them heavily. “How did you – why did you call her my bride?” He barely caught himself from saying _how did you know she thinks she’s my wife?_

The old woman laughed and waved him off, hopping off her stool and tottering towards the back of her shop. “Come and see me when you figure it out for yourself, Poe Dameron.”

The ferry ride felt impossibly longer on the way back, despite being shorter than the journey to Maz’s island. The brief respite of talking to a friendly face hadn’t extended its calming nature to Poe’s return voyage. Unkar’s words from earlier haunted him – ‘ _you’d think a bitch like her would like the water”_ – and combined with the memory of Rey’s collapse the previous night when confronted with a filling bathtub, anxiety roiled through his body, coiling him tighter than a spring about to break.

Matters weren’t helped when he spied Teedo, Unkar’s first mate, on the opposite end of the ferry. He wasn’t looking Poe’s way, but he felt his presence like a purposeful shadow regardless. Unkar’s threatening last words, his warning to not leave Rey alone and unprotected, added to the chill of the spray coming off the water as they churned towards home.

When they docked, Poe barely waited for the crew to throw down the ramp before leaping off the boat and jogging towards town. He picked up pace when he passed the tavern he met Rey in, the ghost of Unkar chasing him, urging him to go faster. He couldn’t tell if it was irrationality that drove him to go ever faster, a baseless fear of what he might find waiting for him, or an eagerness to be back at Rey’s side (although the two reasons working in tandem was honestly the most likely option).

Soon enough, his house was in view. No smoke rose from the chimney, and panic overswept his senses before he remembered he’d never demonstrated to Rey how to stoke the fire, merely urged her not to turn on the stove in his absence until he had a chance to teach her how to use the various appliances in his home.

No smoke, but no sign of Unkar either. Poe’s feet pounded up the stone steps and he fumbled for the key to unlock the door. Quickly, he let himself in and closed the door, locking it and leaning against it for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He stripped off his top sweater and chucked it to the side, wiping his hand over his face before he looked for Rey.

“Sweetheart?” Poe called out, unlacing his boots and carefully stepping out of them, placing them in front of the door. “Rey? I’m home.” Big Bastard meowed at him angrily from the kitchen table, a bowl of fish heads directly in front of the cat.

Poe snorted at the sight and walked towards the bedroom. “Lord above, he’s going to be insufferable now, you know that? He barely accepted fish from me in the past,” Poe opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in, “And now he thinks _you’re_ going to feed—” He stopped short when he realized the bed was empty, and the rocking chair, and the seat near the window.

“Rey?” Poe shouted it now, fear creeping into his voice. “Rey, where are you?” _Had she left? Taken her skin and run off in his absence?_ He wouldn’t blame her if that’s what she had done, he only wanted her to feel free, to feel safe, but shit, she couldn’t just – she wouldn’t – “Rey?”

In the distance, he heard a muffed sob and a strange clank of metal on metal. He stumbled towards the bathroom and knocked on the closed door. No answer came; concern overrode every other emotion inside of himself while he knocked again.

“You in there, sweetheart?”

Another soft noise, more a wail than a sob, and it cut him to the quick. “Rey, I’m coming in, okay? I won’t – I won’t look or nothin’, I just want to make sure you’re alright. If you really don’t want me to come in, uh, bang? On the side of the tub?”

Silence met his request, and Poe took a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm himself. He eased the door open, turning the knob as softly as possible, and he poked his head into the room.

“Rey?” He said again, the most quiet call of her name since his return home. “Sweetheart?”

There was no need for him to avert his eyes – Rey sat in the dry tub, dressed in her shift, back to the door. Her hair was loose and tangled down her back, and her shoulders trembled, the shaking increasing for every labored breath she took.

“Are you alright?” Poe cursed himself for the tactless question, especially when Rey didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t answer, it was an awful thing to ask when she was obviously upset. He changed tracks. “Are you in any pain? And can I do anything for you?”

Rey nodded, and he walked into the bathroom a little more, but stopped short of being in arms reach of her. He wanted her to reach for him right now. The last thing he wanted was to startle or crowd her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, dragging the chair near the door over so he could sit behind her. “As long as this takes, whatever this is, I’ll be right here, however you need me.” Another jerky nod of the head, and silence permeated the room.

Not quite silence. Rey’s breath still caught and stuttered every so often, and Poe’s own heavy, calm breathing proved an interesting counterpoint to her near-hyperventilation. He watched, flattered, as her body shifted backwards to rest against the back of the tub, and she maneuvered herself to sit on her side, completely vulnerable to him. _You make me feel safe,_ her words from the first night returned to him then, and Poe prayed, not for the first time, that he would one day earn the trust Rey had so wholeheartedly given him. He prayed that whatever was hurting her in this moment would pass. He prayed to accept some of the burden for her. He prayed.

After several minutes of near-quiet, Rey took a breath through her nose, and her entire body locked.

“You smell like him.”

Poe stiffened in surprise – he hadn’t been aware that her sense of smell was that acute, and what did it say that she recognized _his_ scent – but leaned in close to her so he could murmur and still be heard. “Saw him on the ferry. He…was his usual self.” It was the most diplomatic way to phrase the truth without upsetting her. No need to upset her further, not when –

“They held me down.”

His entire life, Poe had heard that rage matched fire’s intensity – you burnt hot when angry, like an inferno. But those four words taught him the newest lesson of his thirty-three years.

True fury felt more like the icy waters that surged up against the rocks outside than any common flame.

“What?” Poe whispered, throat hoarse. His mind reeled in an attempt to catch up with his assumption, _Rey was innocent of men’s bodies,_ his consciousness reminded him, dredging up the memory of their first night in the same bed, _she is still naïve of so many things,_ but how else was he to interpret that statement, when he _knew_ from his mother’s stories what men did to trapped seal-women?

Rey didn’t speak again for 87 agonizing seconds, each of which Poe counted, felt, and assessed with weight equal to decades. When she did speak again, she wrapped her arms around herself and sat up, still not facing him, her bare shoulders pale in the low light of the room, her form barely illuminated from the light streaming in behind Poe from the windows of the house.

“They kept me to – to – scavenge,” Rey whispered. “To steal things from the bottom of the bay, to go below where men cannot and take things from the sand. They – _Unkar,_ ” she spat the name like a curse, and Poe bit back the urge to spit over his shoulder the way his pa always did to dispel bad luck and spirits, “he kept me chained on the deck of his ship during the day. Made me swim to the bottom and come back up, and if I didn’t find anything, I didn’t eat.”

 _That foul, loathsome, disgusting sack of shit._ There was not a single title in English or Spanish that Poe could summon that was powerful enough for Unkar. To starve her – to keep her chained up, to treat her like a tool (an _asset_ , Unkar had said) – it was repugnant, repulsive; but it didn’t quite explain something Unkar had said, or even what Rey had just said to break her silence.

But she wasn’t done. Her body shook fully when she said, “They would hold me down if I refused to go. Or if they were bored. Would bring out a tub and fill it. P-pushed me down in it. Took bets on how long I could h-hold my breath. It’s – it’s not possible for me to drown, you see, it’s – not in my nature – but when I’m not in my skin, I can’t – it,” Rey folded herself inwards, legs pulled up to chest, head pressed to knees, hands wrapped around her head. “It hurt. It hurts to drown when you can’t die.” She sobbed then, her agony breaking through her speech, and Poe’s heart lurched at the same time his body did. He fell to his knees, and gripped the edge of the tub while Rey wailed, “It’s not f-fair – I c-c-can’t even swim anymore, not after wh-what they did to my, my,” she wiggled her injured foot and kept going, her anger and pain past control. “I’m afraid of water. I’m – I’m a failure, a _selkie_ who fears drowning, I – I – it’s not…” She whimpered and cried harder into her knees, the strap of her slip falling off her bony shoulder.

Poe reached out tentatively, and Rey leaned into the touch, as if she could sense his proximity. Poe didn’t move his hand, merely left it on her cold arm. “It’s not fair, and it’s not your fault,” he said fiercely. “Unkar’s a _monster,_ Rey, and I have half a mind to-“ He cut himself off. No need for Rey to catch wind of the newfound bloodlust echoing in his heart, made all the worse for her tearstained confession. “They tortured you, sweetheart, you don’t have to – you’re not a failure, you didn’t do anything wrong, they did, and – and I hate that they hurt you like that, sweetheart.”

During his statement, her freezing hand drifted to cover his own, and he found himself pulled forward, whether by her strength or his own desire to be near her was impossible to tell. She slid her hand up his wrist, along his forearm and tugged on his bicep, her body curving towards his like a flower to the sun. Poe pulled off his last sweater and tugged off his socks, stepping into the tub right behind Rey, into a space she’d made, in his pants and undershirt.

“C’mere,” he said, sitting down slowly. He parted his knees while he went, and Rey wiggled backwards until he was sitting on the floor of the tub, and Rey was sitting with her back flush to his chest. “I got you,” he said. “I – you’re safe, I’ll keep you safe, if it’s the last fucking thing I do, nothing bad is ever going to touch you again.” She didn’t respond or verbally acknowledge his admittedly intense promise, but she grabbed his forearm and wrapped his entire arm around her body.

Poe laughed softly and brought his other arm up to hold her as well. Rey shifted until her ear was pressed to his chest.

“I want to try,” she whispered. Poe made a questioning noise, and Rey lifted one of her delicate feet to jab at the faucet. “Want to. With you. Tried all day, but didn’t feel safe, not until you were home, and—I want to try.”

God, he wished he deserved her trust. He swore to God in Heaven, all the old gods, all the stars in the Milky Way, that he would always do his best to be the man she thought he was.

“Okay,” Poe whispered. “We’ll start slow? And we can turn it off the second you feel badly.” Rey nodded, not moving, and Poe managed to sit up, leaning forward, with Rey coming with him, to grab the faucet and turn the water on. She pressed her nose into his neck and he heard her exhale shakily, so he kept the stream at a minimum, the warm water trickling out slowly. He kicked the stopper into place and then lay back against the wall of the tub again, bringing Rey with him.

They really didn’t fit – he needed to fit a bigger bathtub in the space if they were going to do this often, a thought that would make him blush if it weren’t for the fact that they were sitting here clothed and upset – but he didn’t care about the momentary discomfort.

Instead, he adjusted his hold on Rey and whispered in her ear about how well she was doing, how safe she was, how proud he was of her.

“You’re so strong,” he reminded her, stroking a hand down the tangled waves of her hair. “You’re strong, and no one can take that away from you.”

Her hand tangled in his hair while her nose nuzzled under his jaw. Her free hand gripped the front of his shirt, and Poe focused on those points of contact to anchor himself to the moment, and to Rey, and to this difficult task they were facing.

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he whispered as the water reached their ankles and began to fill and add weight to their clothing. “And I couldn’t be prouder of anyone.”

He was still whispering when the water reached her waist, and he used his foot to kick the faucet off. They floated in silence, Rey shivering against his chest, and Poe tilting his head back to stare up into the cosmos through his own bathroom ceiling.

Against the water’s surface, Rey’s hand began to timidly trace ancient and careful patterns that sent ripples across the basin, refracting and splintering in a hundred different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Poe and Rey have some Soft Times (TM), and Rey begins to feel more like herself. But when an unwelcome face appears on their doorstep, there are disastrous consequences.


	5. Don't Forsake Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe enjoy a brief period of (wedded?) bliss, but they cannot escape Fate for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: prolonged violence + character death / threats against life  
> (also frank discussion of sex/sexuality)

Rey shivered in the towel Poe had offered her after they’d drained the bath; he glanced over at her anxiously from where he knelt on the rug, stoking the fire in his heart. He rubbed his hands briefly over the flames and then stood to walk back over to Rey.

A thin hand reached out from the blanket, and Poe took it without thinking, kissing her fingertips gently while settling on the edge of the threadbare couch. Rey left her hand on his face after he released her, and she began to stroke over his stubble, wrinkling her nose at the texture.

“Sorry, I’ll shave,” he said, laughing shyly. “Scruffy, I know.”

“Scruffy,” Rey agreed, letting her fingers trail from his jawline to his mouth once more. Her pointer finger briefly slipped between his lips, and Poe fought the urge to bite at it playfully, given the tenor of their afternoon; a delicate balance, given that he loved her all the more for the fragile strength she’d demonstrated, that he now wanted her close, for the rest of his life, but he also wanted to respect her sorrow and give her time to heal. “I like scruffy.”

“Yeah?” Poe smiled at her, and Rey nodded, reaching up with her other hand then to frame his face. The movement caused her towel to drop, and Poe looked away blushing. “Whoa, um—” He fumbled for a moment before spotting the knitted blanked his mother had made for him before her passing. “Here you go, sweetheart.”  He met her eyes, smiling, while he draped the blanket around her slender body, trying desperately to preserve her modesty, and his own sanity.

She’d pouted at him once for doing something similar – she looked downright miserable now. Rey shuffled backwards into the couch cushions, hunched over on herself, making an odd, vibrating noise deep in her chest – crying, Poe realized, a different kind of mourning.

“Hey,” he whispered, stroking hair out of her lovely face slowly. He left his hand behind her ear until she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You’re – don’t think I don’t … find you attractive,” he stumbled over his words, trying to phrase it correctly. “I want … that…with you. I do. I want to –“

“Fuck?” Rey tilted her head and looked more curious than she had a minute ago, and Poe choked on his own spit.

“Uh.” He coughed for a second, and Rey grinned wickedly at him when he re-emerged from his surprise. “I wouldn’t – it wouldn’t be that, with you.”

“What is it, if it is not fucking?” Rey’s brow furrowed. “Fucking is … what men want.”

“Sometimes,” Poe agreed weakly, fingers catching at the threadbare ends of his sweater. _How did they get to here, of all places?_ “But…fucking is um…there are different words for it. It’s … it’s just called sex, and it’s – well, it’s hard to explain, but a part of me goes inside you, and—”

How the _hell_ had his father explained it to him when he was twelve? God, he couldn’t ask Kes here to explain it, could he? If only his mother was alive, she could –

A small hand grasped his clasped hands and tugged. He looked up to find Rey smiling. “Fish and other creatures of the sea mate, Poe. Fucking is mating. I understand that.”

Oh thank God. “But it wouldn’t be mating,” Poe said weakly. “We wouldn’t – we don’t have to have children, you see, humans don’t always have sex for children – I wouldn’t – fucking is different, too.” Rey still smiled at him patiently, as though at a harmless fool, her lovely face open and kind (wasn’t he supposed to be the one comforting her, right now?). He sighed, wiped a hand over his face, and gave up any attempt at dignity. “I would make love to you,” he said resolutely, refusing to be embarrassed.

“Make love?” Confusion flashed over her lovely face.

Poe flailed briefly, and sensing his distress, Rey pulled on the sleeve of his sweater, pulled him into the couch, swapping their positions so he was sitting back, and she was sitting in front of him. She clambered onto his lap with little warning, and Poe wrapped his arms around her; his nose ended up buried in her wet hair, and he admired the way his soap smelled on her skin before he shook himself and remembered that she waited for an answer.

“People can use sex to show each other how they feel,” Poe explained carefully. “It’s slower, and more gentle, and,” he swallowed, aware of how rough his voice had gotten, aware of how close she was to him, “and I would take my time, make you feel good, try to use my body to tell you how I feel.”

“That sounds nice,” Rey whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. Poe nodded and tightened his grip on her. “So…you will not fuck me, but you will make love to me?”

‘I’ll do whatever you’ll let me,’ would be Poe’s honest answer, but he dodged for the moment. “When the time is right,” he allowed. “We haven’t even kissed yet, sweetheart.”

“Mmm,” Rey nodded drowsily, seemingly content that he wasn’t purposefully withholding himself from her out of cruelty, and she nuzzled into his neck more, stealing his breath.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Poe asked softly, rubbing his hand over her arm through the blanket. Rey shook her head.

“It is not dark yet. Your kind sleeps in the dark,” Rey pointed out. Poe snorted.

“You can nap,” he said. “Naps are wonderful, you can sleep in the middle of the day, whenever you want. Here, let me…” he stood carefully, his arms wrapped around Rey. She was so oddly light for a woman so tall, and he wondered about physiology as he carried her through the cottage to the bedroom. He fought against the urge to tell her he loved her, and he settled on, “You can sleep, sweetheart, I won’t leave you. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“You,” Rey yawned widely after he’d settled her on the mattress and climbed on next to her, “Are a very good husband.” She rolled onto her side facing away from him, grabbed his wrist, and wrapped his arm around her. “You do such kind things for me.”

“Anything for you,” Poe whispered, watching his breath blow through her hair gently. Her breathing evened out before he’d finished the statement – she must have been exhausted, poor thing – and he risked leaning in until his mouth was pressed against her shoulder. Not quite a kiss, he told himself, not yet, not until –

Not until _what_? He asked himself.

He didn’t have an answer, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.

***

The next day after breakfast, he remembered to hand Rey the box he’d purchased from Maz. Rey looked at the box for a moment before Poe remembered that she could have no possible concept of a wrapped gift.

“Open it,” he encouraged her, tapping the box. “Take the paper off, and see what’s inside.”

“Oh!” Rey beamed excitedly and tore the paper off eagerly. The lid was thrown to the side next, and then she gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “ _Oh_!”

She held the silver bracelet aloft, cooing, pleased at the way it looked in the light coming in the kitchen windows. Poe held a hand out for it, and she clearly thought a moment before handing it over to him. He grinned at her hesitance and then showed her how to slip the bracelet on. “There you go,” he said, tapping the jewelry. “It’s a bracelet.”

“Beautiful,” Rey commented, twirling her forearm this way and that so the silver caught the light differently. Poe found himself stroking her arm with the backs of his fingers, and he only stopped when she smiled at him. Before he could say anything, she darted into their room – and he’d started to think of it as their room, of course, how could he not – and Poe followed curiously.

Rey threw the quilt out of the way and placed the bracelet at the foot of the bed, seeming incredibly pleased with her decision as the blankets hid the object from view. He spotted a teacup that had gone missing last week, and a bit of ribbon he’d bought for her down in the village.

She pulled the quilt back up and clapped her hands. “Perfect!” She declared, prouder than a peacock, and Poe had no choice but to agree with her.

And if he picked up a set of earrings later that day, down in the village, well – he just wanted to see that smile back on Rey’s face while she continued to build what he now recognized as a nest. Sure, the objects she was collected poked at his feet in the middle of the night, but he learned to wear woolen socks to bed, and angle his legs just right, so as not to disturb his slumbering companion, or her collection.

***

Another week had passed when Rey rose from bed with him in the morning. She worked alongside him in the kitchen, boiling the water by herself for the morning coffee – she still preferred tea – and even successfully started the fire. He rubbed circles into her back and said, “Good work, sweetheart,” which earned him a happy noise and Rey’s face nuzzled into his neck when she threw her arms around him.

She looked so pretty when she pulled away, her hair in a braid she let him weave last night after her bath, wearing a sweater and pants, both of which she’d borrowed from him (the sweater hitting her mid-thigh, the pants held aloft by a tightly fastened belt), her eyes closer to green in the morning light. Poe was so caught up in it, how beautiful she was, that he couldn’t quite catch his thought before it escaped.

“I’m falling in love with you,” he admitted (and in honesty, he was far past the point of falling).

Rey looked worried immediately, and he froze, afraid that he’d given her cause to panic. He opened his mouth, about to apologize or take it back (he didn’t want to take it back), when Rey grasped his upper arms and gazed into his face.

“Don’t fall!” She urged him. “I’ll make sure you don’t!”

“No,” Poe laughed, realizing the misunderstanding. “No, sweetheart, I’ve already fallen.”

Rey patted his elbows and then his side anxiously. “I fall all the time in this silly form. Honestly, you two-leggers have no idea how to move, it is very stressful. Where did you fall? I did not see you fall.”

“It’s an expression,” Poe explained, still laughing. He caught her hands and brought them up to his mouth, showering her with kisses. “It means that I’ve grown to love you, sweetheart. You’re important to me, the best part of my life, and when I’m with you, I’m happy, in a way that I’d begun to believe I couldn’t ever be. I’ve fallen in love with you, and it was the easiest thing I ever did.”

Rey’s mouth worked for a moment, opening, closing, twisting, before she settled on, “That is a very odd way of saying that.” Poe snorted but had to agree. “Tá mé i ngrá leat.”

Gaelic, again. Poe waited for her to translate, but she rubbed her nose against his and sighed happily, her fingers poking through the holes in his knitted sweater. “Tá mé i ngrá leat.”

“Oh.” Poe repeated the phrase back to her, and startled when tears formed in her eyes. “What?” He asked, aghast, wiping at the ones that fell to her cheeks. “Was I that bad at it?”

“No,” Rey said, sniffing and smiling at him through his tears. “No one has ever…” she trailed off, but he took her meaning automatically.

He had to ask, then. “Rey,” he whispered her name, cupping her cheek in his hand. “Where’s your family?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from him, but he grasped her waist and pulled her close. Rey rested her head on his shoulder, and stared at the stove while he rested his chin on her head, his lips in her hair. “They left me,” she said softly, and Poe’s hands tightened on her. “I – I must not have been a good enough swimmer because they left me behind. The water was warmer, then, but I swam and swam for years, through all seven seas. I asked everyone I could if they had seen my family, but,” she shook her head and turned fully so he was holding her entirely, her body pressed against his. “They died. Buried in the sand. I’m the last of my kind. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember. It is hard, to be the last.”

“Sweetheart.” Poe made a noise of sympathy, but didn’t have anything else to say; nothing but a promise. “I’m never going to leave you, I swear it. Never. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel alone again. If I lost you, I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Rey seemed to step in closer, somehow. “You would do that for me?”

“Anything for you,” Poe said, meaning every bit of it.

He went to put his boots on a few minutes later, Rey stepping away from the embrace first, wiping her eyes and staring out the window to the sea. He was surprised when Rey came up next to him and began to lace her own boots, much smaller than his, special ordered two weeks ago from the shop in town.

“You coming to see me off?” He asked, oddly pleased by the idea.

“I’m coming with you,” Rey said, her mind clearly made up. “I will not be afraid.” She leaned into him and then stood proudly near the door. “I cannot be afraid, not with you next to me.”

“I wish I had done something to earn your trust,” Poe admitted, tugging on his coat, and then holding Rey’s out for her. She put her arms through the sleeves and then turned to face him, frowning. “It means so much to me that you do, sweetheart, but – what could I possibly have done for it?”

“You have done everything,” Rey answered, reaching out to squeeze his hand before opening the door and walking out into the cold fog of morning. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the tendrils of mist rising from the ground wrap around her ankles, the water reaching back for her even now, and then followed his wife out into the world.

It wasn’t until he was helping her step into his boat that he realized he’d begun to think of her as his wife. And as he rowed them out into the bay, he realized that it was the most natural feeling he’d ever come across. Rey, his heart. Rey, his sunlight.

Rey, his wife.

***

Rey was a delighted audience for his fishing, crooning and applauding in equal measure as he brought in several fish.

“My husband is a good provider!” Rey declared happily, dropping another flailing fish onto the bottom of the boat. Poe felt his ears burn red and busied himself with gutting the fish, tossing the entrails into a separate bucket.

“Thank you,” he muttered, unsure if he should beat his chest now, or dive overboard and catch as many fish as possible with his bare hands, whichever would please his wife more. He smiled at her shyly, the sun finally cutting through the low clouds of the day, and had to look away just as quickly when the incandescence of her beauty, amplified out here on the water, threatened to strike him blind.

Rey seemed content with his lack of real response, and trailed a hand in the waves, splashing cheerfully while her chin rested on the forearm she left resting on the side of the small boat..

“I’m so proud of you,” he said suddenly, and Rey peered at him over her shoulder. “I am. You – you’re very brave, sweetheart, to be out here. I’m incredibly proud of you.” Rey grinned at him, pink from her ears to the tip of her pert nose, and then returned her attention to the water, her shoulders wiggling slightly as though she couldn’t physically contain her joy.

Poe grinned to himself and began their return journey to shore, rowing smoothly across the waves and beginning to sing to himself, songs in Spanish his mother had taught him decades ago. He watched the dock grow nearer, wondering if he and Rey both had time to use the bathtub before he had to go into town, and looked back at Rey.

Her back had stiffened, and her hand trailed in the water, no longer actively stirring the surface. He stopped singing and regarded her cautiously.

“Are you okay?” He asked, frowning as they pulled up to the dock. “Sweetheart?”

Rey looked at him, her mouth trembling, and he threw the rope over the end of the dock, tied a quick knot and then leaned forward to examine her closely.

“Your voice,” Rey said, eyes boring into his. “Your—”

“What?” Poe laughed self-consciously and rubbed his neck. “Is it that bad?” He stood steadily and clambered onto the dock, turning around to offer Rey a hand. She took it, and he helped pull her onto land, but she didn’t release her hold on him once she was returned to steady ground.

“N-no,” she shook her head and stared at him, eyes wide. “I have heard it before.”

“My voice?” Poe laced his fingers through hers and they began to walk up the dock towards home. “I mean, I must have sung sometime in the last few weeks, that makes sense-“

“No.” Rey shook her head, wonder clear in her face. “Never in the house.” That was true. He really only sang on his boat, only when he was fishing in the morning, with no one around to hear – “I heard it, from under the water.”

“Oh?” Poe smiled sheepishly. “Was it bad, then, too?”

Rey stopped walking, looking horrified. He stopped as well and grabbed her other hand. She shook her head again, vehemently this time. “No! You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard,” she insisted. “It was so lovely, I wanted to see who could sing like that – all the creatures below the surface, Poe, they stopped to listen to you, and so did I.”

“When?” Poe bit his lip and tried to think of a time when a seal had been near his boat in recent memory.

“You had already moved away by the time I surfaced,” Rey whispered, looking lost now. “I was – out there.” She jerked her head backwards, and Poe’s eyes didn’t leave her face. “That was when _he_ found me.”

“What?” Poe felt sick. _He_ could only be one person, only one person in the world who could make Rey turn pale and ashen. “He found you because of me?”

“He knew what I was,” Rey shook visibly, squeezing his hands tightly. “Said that he’d been following me, never dreamed that I would go so close to shore, but – I had to – I had to find you, I –“

“Oh, fuck,” Poe moaned, sick with the guilt of it. “No, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“Do not be sorry,” Rey said fiercely. “I found you, yes?”

“Yes, but Unkar—”

“Unkar?” It wasn’t Rey who had spoken. “What did Unkar do?”

Poe froze, feeling as though he’d been shoved into the icy waves behind him. Rey paled as well, and he pulled her tight to his body on instinct, turning to the source of the new voice.

Unkar Plutt had appeared on Poe’s land, and was staggering down the hill towards the dock.

“Get behind me,” Poe demanded, forcing his body in front of Rey’s. He could feel her trembling, and he looked around for a weapon, anything, knowing he had the knife in his pocket, his mind demanding to know why Unkar had chosen to appear.

Poe knew why.

“I think you have somethin’ of mine,” Unkar snarled, drawing ever nearer. Poe’s feet fought for purchase on the slippery wood of the dock, and he reached behind him, squeezing Rey’s hip reassuringly.

“If I say jump, sweetheart, jump off the dock,” he whispered. “Swim, get away from here.”

“Not leaving you,” Rey whispered back, and he winced at the resolution in her tone.

“There’s nothing here for you,” Poe said coldly. “Now, if you would be so kind as to remove yourself from my property.” He nodded towards the hills, which obscured the village from sight at this angle.

“So polite,” Unkar sneered, stumbling to a halt at the end of the dock. “Always such a gentleman, Captain Dameron is. You gotcher self a real nice fella, little girl.”

Poe bristled in white-hot anger. “You don’t get to talk to her,” he snapped. “And I won’t be polite for much longer, so get the fuck off my property.”

Instead of listening to Poe’s advice, Unkar took a few blundering steps forward. Poe pressed backwards, not out of fear for his own safety, but out of a desperate desire to see Rey safe. He could smell the cheap liquor on Unkar’s breath from hear, mingling disgustingly with the lingering odors of rotted fish and filth that accompanied the giant man wherever he went.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Unkar said, grinning widely, drool shining on his chin. “Not ‘til you return my asset.”

“I’ll die before you take her,” Poe said, meaning every word of it.

Rey whimpered softly, and Poe pushed her back at the same time Unkar shrugged and said, “Fine with me, boy.” The other man lunged forward, and Poe heard Rey stumble back, shrieking. He caught Unkar’s fist, the larger man’s balance thrown off from the drink, and he kicked his knee viciously.

“Rey, go!” He shouted, gesturing over Unkar’s collapsed form, and looking back at Rey desperately. She was frozen, caught in her fear, staring at Poe in horror. “Please!” He shouted, and a meaty hand grabbed his calf and tugged upwards, causing Poe to crash backwards onto the dock. Unkar twisted his ankle, and Poe felt it give with a horrifying _pop,_ and pain flashed up his leg. “Fuck,” he snarled, and then Unkar was on him.

Large hands wrapped around his throat, and Poe clawed at them, at his wrists, kicking upwards and catching more than once, causing Unkar to grunt and lessen his grasp. He was just about to roll out from underneath him, consequences be damned, when there was an almighty cracking noise, and Unkar howled in pain, staggering back from where he’d knelt over Poe.

Poe gasped for breath as his airway was no longer restricted, and he rolled to a crouch, realizing that Rey had come to stand between Poe and Unkar. She held the pole he often used to pull the boat in when it had drifted out too far, or when the water level had lowered, and she wielded it like a weapon. It was what she had struck Unkar with to free Poe, and she struck Unkar once more with it.

“You will not touch my husband,” she commanded, and Poe managed to get to his feet, admiring the strength of her stance. His vision still spotted in the corners, the world a little greyer than normal, his reactions just a little slower – which is why he watched, barely able to respond, when Unkar grabbed the pole and used it to yank Rey towards him. He caught her by the throat, and she dangled off the ground, her feet kicking out uselessly.

The pole clattered to the dock under them, and Unkar turned, laughing nastily and began to walk up the dock, now dragging Rey by the arm while she clawed and spat at him. “Where’s your skin, little girl?” Unkar roared. “Do I need to kill him for you to tell me?”

Poe grabbed the abandoned pole and lurched after them; without thinking, he struck Unkar on the back, near his shoulder. He released Rey and turned, snarling – Poe hit his knees, furiously, driving him backwards, hitting him again and again, in the face, in the stomach, diminishing his balance until his feet gave out.

He felt a glimmer of victory when Unkar went down –

And then his head cracked against the dock, his giant body sliding into the sea, a trail of red in its wake along wood and water alike.

“Fuck,” Poe gasped, staggering to Rey, his leg still screaming in pain, and he clutched her to him. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

She nodded, rubbing her throat and his at the same time, making hurt noises. Poe kissed her forehead and stared at the water, waiting for Unkar to re-emerge.

He didn’t.

The water churned more than usual, darker where the blood had spilled, but Unkar did not reappear. The depth was significant out here on the dock, almost twenty feet, a large dropoff – Unkar had hit his head when he fell. He might not be able to swim. He would –

“He’ll die,” Poe whispered, staring at the water in horror. “Rey, he’s going to die.”

“Good,” she said viciously, sneering down at the water. Her face was transformed in that moment, and Poe remembered his mother’s stories, about women of the water who did not accept their fates quietly, who fought their would-be attackers, who lured sailors to death. Rey was still beautiful in her anger, but her teeth seemed pointed, her eyes, always a clash of grey and brown and green and blue seemed almost red in their rage – he feared her, and he loved her, but-

“Oh God,” Poe moaned, the guilt rising up in him. “I _killed a man_.” He shook from the reality of it – whether it was the dock or his hand that struck out Unkar’s life, he had killed him, he had caused someone’s death, no matter how monstrous he was, no matter how much Poe might think he should die, he was due a trial, he was due justice, and serving the punishment for his crimes, and –

Rey’s hand was soft on his face, distracting him from staring at the churning waters. Not three-quarters of a minute had passed since Unkar struck his head and disappeared, but Poe felt as though he had signed his own death warrant, blood on his hands no matter how clean they were.

Her face had softened again, more Rey in the sunshine than Rey seeking revenge, and she stroked her thumb along his jaw. A battle raged in her hazel eyes, and she bit her lip for three seconds that could have been an eternity. Poe stared back, unsure of what she was trying to communicate. But then, she whispered, “Anything for you.”

She dove into the water without hesitation, to where Unkar had fallen. Poe fell to his knees, crying her name, but she couldn’t hear him. He screamed for her again, but the water’s surface broke, and there she was, holding Unkar aloft, smiling at him, her body wreathed in water the way it should have always been.

Poe smiled back at her, holding his hand out to help her heave Unkar to safety, but Unkar gasped for breath, startling both of them.

The world tilted on its axis as Unkar dragged Rey below the surface, snarling inhumanly. Bubbles rose in her wake, and Unkar vanished below as well.

“Rey!” Poe screamed, his throat raw from it. He tilted over the ocean and tried to stare below. “Rey!”

The surface seemed permanently disturbed by what went on below, and Poe gave up trying to see. He threw himself into the freezing water, no regard for his ankle which throbbed painfully from his motion; his lungs seized up as he submerged himself, and he reached out blindly in the salt water, desperately seeking Rey and Unkar.

Nothing. He resurfaced and gasped for breath, choking on the waves that entered his mouth, and forced himself down below again, forced his eyes to open; nothing but indistinct shape and an eerie grey-green that looked almost like his wife’s eyes.

His lungs burned in protest even as his limbs ached from the cold, and Poe dragged himself to the air once more. “Rey,” he gasped. He had damned her; he had led her to shore, which had caused her capture. He’d been unable to save her from Unkar, his weakness had caused her to jump in after the man. He had damned her, every step of the way, and now he’d live with that for the rest of his life –

“Poe,” a weak voice called from five feet to his left. He turned in the water, treading desperately, and his eyes landed on Rey, the salt water mingling with her own tears. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head and swam over to her, flinching at the marks on her throat, the scratches along her collarbone and jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he begged. “Let’s get you to shore, okay?” She nodded, and they managed to swim over to the rocks lining the shore. Poe helped Rey up onto the outcropping first and then dragged himself out of the water, the air sheer agony on his wet and abused skin.

“Sweetheart,” he moaned, hands running over her body. Her sweater was waterlogged and heavy, her pants clinging to her thin legs – red marks that promised to bruise littered every part of her that he could see, and judging by the sad noises she made as she poked at him, he hadn’t fared much better. “Did he –”

“He’s dead,” Rey said flatly, staring out to sea.

Whether he had drowned naturally or had been helped to the grave was beyond Poe’s guess. And he found that he didn’t care, not when Unkar had used the last of his life to try to take Rey’s.

“Okay,” Poe nodded, wiping salt water out of his eyes as best he could. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Rey blinked and looked up at him with lost, large eyes. “You wanted him to live.”

“I did,” Poe admitted, but then cupped her face in his hands. They needed to get inside; she was injured, so was he, and he had a feeling hypothermia couldn’t be far away for him, judging by the blue at the tips of his fingers. “I did, but I’m not sure why. No one gets to hurt my wife.”

Rey smiled at him, a strange smile that was savage but pleased but beautiful but terrifying in the forever it promised. “Your wife?” She said, making it sound like a question. Poe nodded in answer, and Rey surged up onto her knees, her hands clinging to his shoulders as she crashed into him.

Her lips found his, somehow, and Poe gasped at the contact, searing heat left in her wake (how was she so _warm_ when the water was so cold?) and after a brief moment of simple contact, she nipped at his bottom lip, and Poe groaned, surrendering fully.

The rock they’d swum to was met with the mist from oncoming waves, but Poe couldn’t be bothered to care, not with Rey’s lips, warm and real, caressing his own. He pulled her close to himself, and her hands ran to his hair, pulling at the wet curls and causing him to groan into her sweet mouth.  She tasted of salt and something deeper, something ancient and right, and Poe chased it, his tongue tracing its way along the seam of her lips until she opened for him, sighing prettier than any song he’d ever heard.

Poe Dameron kissed his wife even as the body of her would-be murderer and former captor drifted towards shore; he kissed his wife as though it were holy, as though this were a church and he were binding himself to her; he kissed her with no audience but the sea meeting the land in a distant echo that made promises that resembled forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Oops)
> 
>  
> 
> Big thanks to melanoradrood (who gave me the idea for Rey not understanding 'falling' in love), beccaboom, bransch, and supremequeenofthenerds, birdofprey, and everyone who has dealt with my ISTHISTOOVIOLENT and just general writing panic of the last week.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway:   
> Next chapter  
> is the chapter  
> It's the smut chapter (rating will be upped to E)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I have an arc planned as the second part of this fic that would bring Kylo Ren into this universe -- if people are not yet sick of this AU (lmk, seriously)


	6. When I Let the Water Take Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey become closer than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> the rating has been upped to E, so this is your warning in case you didn't see!
> 
>  
> 
> Contents: Oral Sex (male on female), manual stimulation, sex/loss of virginity
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: Minor character death/non graphic stabbing

They had just managed to scramble up the rocks towards real, solid ground, when Finn rounded the corner on the road, followed by the constable, a weathered old man named Ackbar.

“Poe!” Finn shouted, breaking into a jog. “Dear God – are you alright?” He reached him in seconds, and Poe did, admittedly, feel a little weak in the knees, and accepted Finn’s embrace eagerly. They separated, and Poe smiled weakly at Ackbar, who was gazing out to sea, frowning. “You’re freezing, man – Unkar made a spectacle at the tavern, and swore to everyone there that he was coming up here to teach you a lesson. I caught wind of it and brought Ackbar.”

“What happened?” Ackbar growled, and Poe followed the line of his gaze to Unkar’s body bopping in the water, crashing up against the rocks.

“He tried to kill me.” Rey’s soft voice piped up from behind Poe, and all three men turned to look at her.

She looked impossibly fragile, standing and shivering in the sea mist. Her hair was plastered to her head, a horrible bruise beginning to shine on her pale skin, made all the paler by the last half hour. Blood was gathered at the corner of her small mouth, and she wrapped her arms around herself, mournfully.

Ackbar made a choking noise and strode forward, taking his own coat off to wrap around her. Rey accepted it, sniffing, her lovely hazel eyes glistening as she thanked the constable. “H-he came up to us – I have not been here long, and I – I did not know what he would do…he choked my husband, and then tried to drown me when I attempted to help him.”

Everything she said was technically true, and Ackbar drank it all in. “You poor dear,” he soothed. “Dameron! Let’s take this into your home, so the lady can warm up.”

“Thank you,” Rey cooed, smiling at Ackbar. The older man melted immediately in her gaze, and he offered her his arm while they walked to the cottage, Rey limping noticeably on her still healing leg.

“Poe,” Finn murmured next to him, and he turned, gritting his teeth. His friend looked…thoughtful. “You’ll tell me this story later. Don’t think I have forgotten her face from that day in the tavern.” Poe nodded and grimaced, and Finn wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “But for now, let’s get you inside, and hear what your bride has to say.”

Poe blushed, and it was made worse when Finn whispered, “You could have at least invited me and Rosie to the wedding.”

“There hasn’t been a wedding,” Poe whispered back. Finn raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll explain it all later.”

“You better.” They walked up the steps and into the warm house, and the rest of the afternoon blurred into Ackbar taking statements, men coming for Unkar’s body, and Poe letting Finn know the entirety of the story, while Rey – playing the part of beautiful bride from Europe – charmed all of the constable’s men.

After everyone had departed (Finn turned around to mouth “this isn’t over, Dameron,” at the last second before vanishing up the hill towards town), Poe ran a bath with water as warm as possible, and helped Rey stand from the couch and walk to the tub.

“Stay?” She asked as he turned to the door. Poe swallowed, hard, and heard the sound of her dress hitting the floor. He nodded tensely without saying anything, and once he heard her step into the bath, he turned around and settled with his back against the tub, looking only at her face, refusing to peer through the steam hovering at the surface of the water.

“I love you,” he whispered into the silent bathroom. Tears came to his eyes unbidden as the truth of the day washed over him – she could have died. He could have lost her.

Sensing his distress, Rey’s hand slipped out of the tub, and she wove her fingers through the top of his curls, her nails scratching at his scalp. Poe leaned his head all the way back against the tub. “Tá mé i ngrá leat,” she whispered. “Is tú mo ghrá, a chuisle, mo chroí.”

***

A few weeks after Unkar’s assault, Poe’s leg was almost back to normal, and thank the Lord, so was Rey’s. He rubbed the poultice from Maz into her delicate skin nightly, growing more and more bold as time passed, pressing kisses into the healing skin to her soft noises of encouragement.

Instinct told him to trail his mouth upwards, to travel the length of her long, slender legs, to map every inch of her with his lips and tongue before settling between her legs, but – he held back every time, to Rey’s increasingly loud huffs of annoyance.

“I need to return to the sea tomorrow,” she whispered, three weeks and three days after Unkar’s assault. Poe tensed and looked over at her –

“You’re leaving?” He asked, voice cracking.

They had been sitting on the couch, Poe reading aloud from an old novel, Rey’s feet in his lap. He’d felt such happiness and contentment, and he could have sworn she did too, but if she wanted to leave, he’d never stop her, and –

“I must,” Rey scooted closer to him, folding her legs up until her legs were thrown entirely over his lap, her head nestled on his shoulder. “I must return every seven weeks. And it has almost been seven weeks.”

“Oh.” Poe fidgeted and nodded, closing his eyes and kissing the crown of her head. “If you must.”

“I will return,” Rey said, her fingers teasing a pattern on his chest. “I will only be gone briefly. Not even half a day. Silly husband. I won’t leave you.”

“Oh.” Poe blushed, embarrassed to have exposed his fear so easily, and Rey giggled openly.

“You were afraid I would not come back to you?” She purred, and Poe nodded, not meeting her eyes. She pulled her legs away, and he’d pout at the loss of warmth, but there she was, throwing a leg over his lap, a knee on either side of his hips. She rubbed her nose against his.

“I will always come back to you,” she promised, and Poe smiled, a small thrill pooling through him. Her small hands rested on his jaw, and her blunt nails scratched along the scruff collected there. A groan caught in his throat, and Rey chased it, her lips pressing into his neck, precisely in the spots she’d been memorizing the past few weeks.

“Rey,” he whispered. And then blushed. His hips had thrust upwards instinctively, chasing her warmth. Rey gasped in surprise – he was hard, of course he was, she was so close to him, he loved her so much – and he felt immediately contrite. “I’m sorry,” he groaned, hands on her waist. He began to lift her. “I’m so sorry, my love, forgive me.”

“No.” Rey glowered at him sternly. “No – do not do this.” Poe quirked an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes – an expression she must have learned from him – and ground her hips down onto him. Poe yelped, his hands tightening on her hips. She cooed appreciatively and repeated the movement while lowering her lips to his.

She pressed against him, her hips wiggling effectively while her tongue traced his bottom lip. Poe’s hands traveled along her back, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other resting at the top of her spine between her protruding shoulder bones, and he pulled her in tightly. They kissed each other desperately, the heat between their bodies growing undeniable, and Poe realized he was in danger of ruining his pants.

With a particularly forceful twist of Rey’s hips, Poe dragged his mouth away, panting, and kissed her neck. Rey nodded and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him there, and he pressed his lips under her collarbone hard enough to mark the skin before pulling away again, Rey’s fingers still tight on his scalp. “Not like this,” he gasped. “Fuck, sweetheart, not like this.”

“You cursed!” Rey giggled delightedly, distracted from her mission to drive him wild. “You never curse.”

 _Not out loud,_ he thought. _Not in front of you._

“Let’s – let’s go to bed,” he offered weakly. “We can talk about what we would do – um – after you come back, tomorrow?”

“You are worried I will not come back once I have my way with you,” Rey said primly. Poe gaped at her in shock. She tapped the novel he’d abandoned knowingly. “Like the girl in your book. You think I will – ravish? Yes. You think I will ravish you and leave.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, and leaned in quickly to whisper in his ears. “You think I will only want to have you once. That is wrong.” She bit his earlobe daringly, and Poe choked audibly, the pleasure chasing white hot into his gut. Rey giggled and leapt to her feet; she raced to the bedroom, leaving a bedraggled Poe in her wake.

Poe looked down at his lap and groaned in embarrassment.

He did ruin his pants after all.

***

The next morning, Poe sat on the bed and watched as Rey carefully pried up the loose floorboard and took out the locked box containing her sealskin. She lifted the key from around her neck and unlocked it, taking out the fur and stroking it lovingly.

Poe smiled at her when she looked up, and she smiled back widely. She then stood, no longer shaky on her legs, and offered him her hand. Poe took it, and she led him outside.

It was a beautiful morning, warmer than usual with a soft breeze that carried the scent of the ocean. They walked down to the dock, and Rey fidgeted with her dress for a moment. “Help?” She said softly, giving him an look of insecurity.

Not because she feared that he would look at her or touch her, he realized.

She feared he wouldn’t.

“Anything for you,” he answered easily, stepping forward and helping unbutton the dress. He kissed the smooth skin on her shoulder, and the dress fell to the dock easily, pooling around her feet.

Poe knelt to collect the fabric, and when he stood again, Rey was already wrapped in her fur. Christ on the cross but she was beautiful, her hair falling around her shoulders, her long legs not covered at all by her sealskin. She cupped his cheek softly, the movement exposing most of her pale, freckled torso, and Poe kissed her palm.

“Come back to me?” He asked, hating how weak he sounded. Rey nodded and darted in to kiss him sweetly.

“Anything for you,” she repeated before diving into the water.

The transformation happened so quickly, he missed it; she emerged from under the waves, now a sleek, tawny seal, and she flashed a fin in greeting before jetting back out, across the bay. Poe smiled after her, an uncontained ache throbbing behind his heart. When she was entirely out of sight, he coughed, folded her dress and held it to his body.

He sat on the edge of the dock, his boots dangling just off the surface of the water, and waited for his wife to return.

***

A few hours later, Poe’s startled from a daydream by a nearby splash. He sat upright – he had lain down on the dock, the dress under his head, half an hour after Rey’s departure – and spotted a now familiar dark shape cutting through the water near the dock. It neared the rocks, and Poe stood, grinning. He raced to the end of the dock, and as he reached the point of the rocks, Rey emerged from the water, her sealskin once more draped around her shoulders, her body proudly bare underneath it.

“You waited that whole time?” She asked teasingly, and Poe shuffled his feet, nodding. Rey laughed and skipped up the rocks to the ground, accepting the hand he stretched out to her. “Silly husband.”

“Silly husband, who loves his wife so much,” Poe agreed. He earned a kiss for it, which warmed him from the tip of his nose to his toes.

Rey re-dressed, and with some light begging on her part, convinced him to walk to town. She’d met and befriended Finn and Rose, but Poe was still wary of letting her near human civilization. Humans had been, in a word, cruel to his wife, and he feared someone else would discover her nature and try to exploit her. But Rey was curious, and cheerful, and so sweet when she pouted at him, that he found himself walking down the dirt path, her hand clasped in his.

“Just around the outside?” she said sweetly, and he’d nodded begrudgingly. She cooed at the orchards on the eastern side of town, and gasped politely at the large courthouse in the middle of town.

They came up behind St. Herman’s, and Rey frowned up at the large cross on the steeple of the church. “Is that the church?” She asked.

“Yes,” Poe wrapped an arm around her waist and took advantage of their stillness to kiss her hair. “Yes, it is.”

“And Finn and Rose got married here?” She asked, and Poe nodded. “And your parents?”

“Yes to both,” he stroked over her side soothingly.

“Do you want a wedding?” Rey asked, turning to look at him. Poe rested his hands on her waist and frowned at her, but she kept going. “I – is that why you won’t – fuck me?”

“Rey,” Poe hissed, blanching and staring up at the church. “Not so close –”

“Because married couples fu—” Poe made a squawking noise, so she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Married couples make love, Rose told me. She said it was odd that we were married and hadn’t made love yet.” _She didn’t know the particulars!_ Poe wanted to shout, and instead he felt himself wilting into his boots. God. Rose knew about their private life. Oh, God. He winced, looking up at the church once more.

“If we had a wedding, would you make love to me?” She looked sad with her question, and Poe sighed, holding her tightly to his body.

“I wanted to be sure you were ready,” he admitted. “And that I was ready, too. I – I love you, sweetheart, very much – and – I want it to be perfect, and –”

“Rose said it’s never perfect.” Thank Christ they’d started to walk away from the church. “Rose said that it’s meant to be messy and strange and lovely, and that it’s nice to be near the person you love, but it’s never perfect.”

“That’s right,” Poe admitted, cheeks flushing.

“Have you,” Rey made a sad noise. “Have you been in love before? Is that the problem? You had a mate in the past, but you lost her, and now you do not want to make love to anyone?”

“Rey.” Poe stopped walking, and they stood in the shade of a long-abandoned shanty. He looked into her eyes and framed her lovely face with his hands. “Rey, I’ve been holding back because I wasn’t sure if it would be taking advantage of you – I should have just talked to you about it, and I’m sorry. So many terrible things have happened to you, and I wanted to protect you from any more sadness. I love you, I love you so much, and I don’t need a human ceremony to know that. We can have a wedding if you want. Or if you don’t, we won’t. I love you.” He kissed her softly, and then kissed her jaw, before burying his face in her neck. “I love you.”

“So make love to me.” She sounded petulant, and cross, and he loved her so, so much. “Take me home, Poe.”

He straightened up, and cleared his throat, eyes daring to the church hundreds of feet away from them. “Okay. But first,” he pulled the necklace off and over his head, and slipped the silver ring off of it. “This is for you. And – if it’s alright, I don’t want you to put it on your necklace, or at the foot of the bed – I want you to wear it. Every day. And I’ll get one to match.” He took her slender hand and slid the ring into place on her fourth finger. “You’re my wife, and I’m your husband and – and there’s nothing else we need to do for that to be true.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rey whispered.

It really was.

***

After they arrived home, Rey wasted no time in kissing him deeply. Poe fumbled with the lock behind him, barely managing to fasten it before Rey led him to the bedroom. She giggled, once, before her face settled into something more somber. Rey tugged his shirt off and over his head, whispering something in Gaelic that sounded entirely admiring and made Poe blush, and then he was on her once more, their bodies pressing together as they moved towards their common goal.

Poe pushed forward until the backs of her knees hit the side of the bed, and they tumbled to the mattress together. Poe kissed her, and Rey kissed him – his hands pushed her skirts up and out of the way while her nails scratched at his bare chest and back – Poe nearly whimpered when he realized she did not wear anything under her dress – Rey gasped for breath as he pulled her breast halfway from her dress and lavished attention upon the soft swell of skin - and soon the ache in his gut told him they needed to do more. He pressed one last kiss onto her lips before kneeling upright.

“I should very much like to taste you,” Poe said, examining the woman – his _wife_ – laid out before him, her skirts rucked up around her waist. Rey looked alarmed, but he held a hand out and laughed. “I meant – there’s something I would like to try.”

“You will not – eat me?” Rey asked hesitantly, still looking worried.

“No,” Poe said, “No, it’s just a figure of speech. I want to, uhm – put my mouth here.” He pointed to where her arousal was glistening, and Rey’s eyes widened before she nodded hastily.

“Yes!” She breathed. “Yes, I would like to try that.” She wiggled up on the pillows a little more and peered down at him curiously. Poe huffed a laugh and leaned down, resting his weight on his forearms before lowering his mouth to her.

She tasted like the sea, Poe realized. His tongue found her clit as easily as he’d ever found it on human woman – there was no structural difference while she was in this form – but she was so impossibly – “God, you’re wet,” he moaned, pulling away for a moment, admiring how her swollen, pink flesh looked in the low light of his bedside candle. “So wet, sweetheart.”

“Is that bad?” Rey asked tremulously. A quick glance up revealed that she was facing the wall, her eyes squeezed shut.

“No,” Poe smiled at her even though she couldn’t see him. “No, it’s very good. May I – can I touch you now? With my fingers?” Rey nodded, eyes opening, looking curious, and propped herself up on her elbows to watch him work. Poe moaned at how easily her flesh accepted his forefinger, how tight and hot the clutch of her body was, and Rey gasped when he twisted the finger around and crooked it upwards, stroking her upper walls. He looked at her while he worked, watched her chest heave, her breasts spilling out of the top of her dress, her cheeks flushed.

What a picture she made, skirts thrown out of the way, barely wearing her dress at all, her hair mussed, cheeks flushed, swollen bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Smirking to himself, he leaned down and sucked gently on her clit while he fingered her, trying to demonstrate his absolute adoration for this woman in one of the few languages he knew himself to be skilled at – judging by her fingers tangling in his hair and her thighs tightening around his head, Poe knew she was receiving the message. Rey threw herself back on the pillows and screamed with her mouth shut before crying out.

“Poe!” She said, drawing his name out into a moan that had him grinding the base of his cock against the heel of his free hand. “Oh! Poe, I feel so – so – so - _oh!”_ She came then, the fluttering of her body around his finger undeniable, and Poe groaned in appreciation as fresh wetness filled his mouth. He lapped up everything she gave, enjoying the subsequent spasms and her gentle moans.

He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled down at her. Rey stared at him, glassy-eyed, splayed out wantonly on his bed, one of her slender hands clutched to her chest, on the necklace where she wore the engagement ring she’d brought to him almost two months ago.

“Your kind has a very odd way of mating,” Rey said wonderingly. “But I think I like it.”

Poe laughed and laughed and collapsed onto the bed next to his wife, tugging her close and showering her hair with kisses; his laughter was stirred further by her own sweet giggles, which started as hesitant, but quickly blossomed into delighted peals of laughter that lit up his entire cabin.

He caught her left hand and kissed the ring he’d put on her finger earlier, and Rey hummed, her free hand trailing down his waist to where his pants were tented most obviously. “You don’t have to,” he began, but Rey’s hand tensed on his stomach.

“I want to,” she growled. “Unless – you do not—”

“I do!” Poe said hastily. “I do, I do, I really do, but—”

“You think I am an innocent.” Rey rolled her eyes, managing to look haughty despite her state of disarray. “You have put your mouth on my cunt, and yet you fear I am too innocent to touch you.”

“Guh.” Poe blinked at her – why did so much of her English language have to come from sailors, there were dozens of words to describe her sex that weren’t so crude – but was distracted by her hand fumbling with the fastenings of his pants.

“I do not know how to touch a man,” Rey said bluntly. She tugged on them, and Poe lifted his hips – the pants slid down, and next followed his underthings, and he was bare to her, his cock swollen and proud, the leaking tip resting on his lower stomach. “I do not know, so teach me.”

Her hand was on him, and he grasped her wrist delicately and guided her. She stroked him at the pace he demonstrated, and he groaned at the sight of her slender, tanned hand on him, pulling back the foreskin, the pre-cum pearling at the tip. Rey ran a finger through it, and he hissed in pleasure, watching her face anxiously for discomfort.

It didn’t come.

Rey continued to stroke him curiously, spreading the liquid on her finger along his shaft, and Poe shuddered. She was touching – _she was really touching him_ , after weeks of wanting her, she was sharing his bed in this last and final way, and – and the idea of it had him accelerating to his finish in an embarrassingly adolescent way.

Rey knelt next to him now, and Poe was still reclining, entirely at her mercy. She sped up, and he wondered at her knowing to increase the pace until he realized he’d been bucking his hips helplessly upwards, thrusting into her hand. Her other hand stroked at his thighs, and trailed upwards towards-

“Yes,” Poe grunted, nodding desperately, before squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-yes, you can touch them, just be gentle, and—”

She cupped his balls carefully, and he felt himself grow, the telltale flush starting deep in his gut, starting at the base of his spine.

“Gonna – I’m going to – sweetheart, I can finish—” He reached for his cock, but she batted his hand away and sped up just a little more, her movement causing her to twist her wrist slightly near the head, and yes –

Poe came with a shout, one that resembled his wife’s name, and the pleasure washed over him soothingly. Cum splattered on his chest and stomach, and when he opened his eyes, Rey was staring at him, cheeks pinker than before, eyes wide.

Before he could say anything, her finger darted out to swipe through some of the mess on the dark hair above his navel, and she raised the digit to her mouth. Poe garbled something that was never going to be that intelligible, and Rey hummed around her finger.

He looked at her curiously, an unspoken question in his eyes.

“I liked it,” Rey whispered, and Poe groaned, burying his face in a pillow with a blush. "Was that making love?" 

"Yes," Poe rolled back to face her and smiled gently. "Yes, it was."

Rey shifted awkwardly, and Poe smiled at her while kicking his pants all the way off. "What is it, my love?" 

"Rose said you would enter me," Rey said, and her eyes trailed down his body to his now-soft penis. "With your cock."

"Oh." Poe smiled, embarrassed again. "Oh, we can do that - I just - I'll need a few minutes."

"Okay!" Rey smiled eagerly and leaned in close to him. "Kiss until then?" 

Poe laughed and nodded, rolling towards her. They kissed slowly and sweetly, and soon her dress found its way to the floor - and if his cock had been soft before, it wasn't any longer, not at the sight of his wife's body, bare and glowing in the candlelight.

He entered her with a sigh, after working two and then three fingers into her wet heat. Rey made a noise not unlike singing when he'd reached the furthest point possible, and he kissed her for a long minute, his hips cradled by hers. 

"I love you," he whispered, her hands scratching at his back when he began to thrust. He dragged his cock out slowly, almost all the way, before pushing in, angling his hips with each thrust until her breath caught in that particular way. He grinned, and repeated the motion and the angle, until Rey was sobbing his name, her head thrown back. 

Poe tasted the sweat on her throat, dragging his tongue along the skin. "I love you," he repeated, and she echoed the words, in English, and Gaelic, and a language more ancient than both. 

"Poe," she sighed. "Mo chroi." She tightened around him, and Poe pressed against her even more, pressing his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, gasping her name. Rey bit at his neck, his shoulder, her teeth sinking into his collarbone, and he came again with a muffled groan, his hips staggering in their pace. 

They lay together panting for a few moments, his face still buried in her shoulder:

And then Rey whispered smugly to the room around them: "Now  _that_ is making love, yes?" 

***

**

 

A shadow crossed the pier and rushed to a spot hidden under the dock.

It approached a tall figure who stared out towards the sea. "Dameron still has her," Teedo confirmed, clutching at the stitch in his side. "And it's definitely her. I saw her change with my own eyes this morning." 

"Thank you," the tall man spoke, his deep voice a quiet rumble matched only by the tide. "That information is most helpful."

"I didn't think they were real," Teedo continued, shaking his head. "I know - I know what the captain did wasn't... wasn't real proper... rest his soul... but Unkar was right - she was real useful when she wanted to be. Fascinating creature, really."

"Tell me," the man turned to stare at him, and in the moonlight reflected off the inky water, Teedo caught sight of the fearsome scar cutting down his face. "Did you tell anyone else?" 

"No sir," Teedo laughed anxiously and looked back out to sea. "No one else would believe me. And if they did, they'd have some questions concernin' that thing's treatment on our boat."

"Ah," the man seemed to hum in acknowledgement. "That's true. And I really do thank you for your assistance, and for your discretion."

"No--" Teedo started to say  _problem,_ but the breath left his body in a soft exhalation as the blade entered just behind his left lung. 

The body toppled into the water, and the tall man considered the scene for a moment more before turning and vanishing through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of what Rey says in Gaelic: "I'm in love with you, you are my love, the pulse of my heart"
> 
> Here is the definite end of part one, and possibly the end of the fic!
> 
> Part Two would involve fleshing out that foreboding end scene - the Kylo arc would be angsty, but the rest of the fic would still be that oddly cozy, semi-murderous fairy tale vibe that I was aiming for with this. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading; it was truly a delight to write and see your feedback! Have a great Saturday!


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